Assassin's Creed
by solitaryloner
Summary: Assassins are supposed to be able to kill without feeling any guilt or regret. After all, killing and murder happens to be their job. However, what if one day you were forced to choose - between the lost remnants of the past you had always wanted to find, and your reputation? And what if, by choosing the wrong choice, you end up hurting someone you care deeply about? YumaXMiku.
1. Chapter 1

Miku Hatsune shot a glare at her companion, who smiled back and gracefully leapt off the railing they were both balancing on, landing cat-like on the ground. He spun around, looking up at her, clearly enjoying her nervousness.

''It's not that big a jump,'' he teased. ''And you call yourself an assassin?'' he snorted. ''How are you supposed to carry out bigger jobs if you don't even dare to jump off -''

His words were cut off as, with a venomous hiss, Miku let herself fall off the railing and land right on her rival, a hand already reaching for the small butterfly knife strapped to her waist. She grinned, relishing the coming fight.

He side-stepped, movements as fluid as running water, then twirled around, unsheathing his own pair of thin twin knives - needle knives, they were called. Designed for use at close-range combat, they could slip inside the smallest chink in defence and cause unbearable pain to even the strongest opponents.

Of course, he would use that. Why was she not surprised? ''What, no grenade launcher this time?'' she smirked at him.

''I don't actually use the grenade launcher while on a job, genius,'' he sighed as he blocked a downward stab towards his torso. ''It makes too much noise. And shouldn't you be more serious about this whole thing?''

''I've been taking cases for longer than you have, don't ever forget that,'' she reminded him. ''I graduated before you did, after all.''

''But at least I'm not scared of heights,'' he pointed out, smirking. She glared at him, and in that brief instant her guard was down, he disarmed her, snatching her weapon right out of grip.

''And you let your guard down. Very bad, Miku. If I had been an actual opponent, you would be dead right now,'' he tossed her butterfly knife back to her, and disgruntled she caught it.

''Know what? I really hate you, at times,'' she muttered, turning away from the pink-haired boy. He stepped closer to her, grinning.

''Well, I don't mind. So long as I do better than you, nothing matters to me,'' he cocked his head. ''But you wouldn't think that, would you?'' he asked curiously. ''Funny, how we ended up as rivals...we used to be friends, didn't we?''

''Aren't we still?'' Miku rolled her eyes at his silliness. ''We're just business rivals...it happens all the time. And I _am _better than you.''

''That was back in the academy. Out in the real world, I've actually silenced more people than you have,'' he said calmly.

''Because more people hire you. You're a _boy,_'' Miku muttered. It was so frustrating, that even amongst paid killers there was sexism - people assumed that a boy would be more likely to complete a job than a girl.

So what if she was a girl? Did that imply that she was too weak to make a kill? Miku Hatsune was an assassin, and a good one. At age twenty-one, she had already silenced more people than she could count - the numbers ran up to their hundreds.

She knew she was good at her job. She was silent and stealthy, killing before her victims even knew she was there. She left behind nothing but a dead body. She didn't like using guns, preferring close range killing, but if the situation required her to be a sniper, well she could be that, too. Miku could shoot someone in the forehead from a hundred metres away.

She was that accurate. A small scowl crossed her face - she was the perfect assassin...she just didn't like heights. People weren't invincible, everyone was bound to have some kind of weakness.

And one day she was going to find out _his. _He was too perfect, really - it was almost unnatural. Miku had been the top student at Assassin's Creed, but he had come in a close second. Something that, up until now, he was still rather disgruntled about.

VY2 Yuma, or as he preferred to be called, Yuma. He had been her friend ever since childhood, and he relished jobs as much as she did. They had been rivals at Assassin's Creed, and even now, after their graduation three years ago, they still constantly competed to see who could outdo the other.

''Do you still keep in contact with the Headmaster?'' Yuma suddenly asked her. Miku jerked out of her reverie, blinking at the unexpectedness of the question.

''Why do you ask?'' she asked suspiciously. Yuma shrugged, his pink hair falling carelessly around his face. Personally, Miku thought that he looked better without his usual black beanie than with it, but she would never admit that to him. He would just laugh at her.

''It's just...'' he hesitated. ''He sent me a text. He wants to meet me, at the first Academy, later. At half past three,'' his eyes flickered to his watch. ''Did you receive the text too?''

She reached up, twirling a lock of her teal coloured hair around her fingers. ''Yes, Gumo did tell me to meet him, at the first Academy. Same time as you. But he didn't tell me that you would be coming, too...''

Yuma frowned, his pale green eyes narrowing with thought. ''Strange. Well, it doesn't matter. I need to take a bath,'' his eyes flicked up to her. ''We both need to.''

She scowled at him, not liking how his eyes focused on the sweat stains on her white shirt. Fine, so maybe she was perspiring. She wasn't immortal - it wasn't like she could _not_ perspire. If only she could do that.

She held out her hand, palm outstretched, and he stared at her. ''What do you want?''

''Your keys, stupid. If not, how am I supposed to enter the house? You locked the back gate, remember?'' she frowned at him. ''And your room door. I want to use your shower.''

Yuma lived in a giant mansion, left to him from his deceased parents. The large backyard they were currently standing in, he had converted into an obstacle course of sorts, so he could keep fit - not that he actually needed to work out. Yuma was fit. Deliciously fit. Not that she was going to admit that.

He rolled his eyes. ''You're such a pest,'' he muttered under his breath, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his keys. With his other hand, he used the white towel draped across his shoulders to wipe the drops of sweat off his forehead. ''Be fast.''

''I will,'' she turned and strode away, into his mansion. Yuma had offered to allow her to stay in his home before, but she liked the cosiness of her small house. This mansion was so big, she still got lost in it sometimes, especially in the sprawling basements.

Yuma had changed the basements into a torture chamber, with various holding cells. Sometimes, when he was told to bring a target back and get information out of them before silencing them, this was where he brought them to. His little torture chamber.

He could be nice. He could also be exceedingly sadistic. This was the paradox which was known as VY2 Yuma. And frankly, his cruelty made her rather nervous, at times. She had seen the way he tortured, and he did so with a little too much relish for her comfort. While they had been studying, there had been a module on torture and blackmail. Yuma had topped that.

Gumo was the current Headmaster of the Assassin's Creed, a mobile academy which picked up promising students and taught them the arts of assassination. In the past, it had no name, but eventually some students had named the academy after the popular game, as a nickname, and the name stuck.

It wasn't easy to be chosen by the Academy for training. Possible candidates were identified at a young age, usually around eight. They could come from anywhere, just as the Academy had eyes everywhere. If a child seemed to have potential, they were brought back to the academy. Parents were told that the children had won scholarships for education at special, selected schools.

And there were still other trials and tests which the candidates needed to pass, before finally being enrolled in the clandestine Academy. Those who failed the tests were usually sent to other schools, after they drank a special herbal concoction to make them forget about the school. Miku didn't know how they made it - she just knew that it always worked.

At the Academy, the Assassin's Creed, students were taught normal academic subjects, like maths and science. However, the school focused more on the art of killing - as well as others. Torture, espionage, blackmail, bribery, honing their nocturnal vision, training with different types of weapons, increasing their flexibility. Even the arts of seduction and lying.

The Assassin's Creed did more than train them to be assassins. They were more than perfect assassins - those who survived the harsh trainings, those who didn't get themselves killed, became the ultimate killing machines.

The Academy changed location every year to avoid being caught by the law, and the only people who knew the new location of the school each time it shifted were the Headmaster, the students, the various teachers, and some of the truly gifted graduates.

Graduates like her and Yuma. Slowly, she let her fingers trace a familiar pattern across the fabric of her shirt, and she could feel her fingers stroking her skin through the soft cloth. Smiling, she unlocked the door to Yuma's room.

It was time to take a quick shower, before meeting up with Gumo, the current Headmaster. He wasn't much older than her and Yuma, at twenty-five, and Miku had always liked him. He was a good Headmaster, and an excellent assassin - renowned and feared for his ability to silence without leaving any trace.

What could he want from her and Yuma?


	2. Chapter 2

''You're taking a really long time, Hatsune!'' Yuma banged on the door of his bathroom. Miku, who was drying herself, glared at the door Yuma was torturing.

''I'm a girl, Yuma! I can't shower in one minute like you! Go away and leave me alone.'' She thought she had already taken a rather short time - only five minutes had passed since she first stepped into Yuma's bathroom.

''Why, of all bathrooms, did you choose _mine _to bathe in?'' Yuma sounded disgruntled. ''You could have used one of the guest rooms.''

''Your bathroom is the only one with the jacuzzi bath inside.'' And that, in Miku's opinion, was more than sufficient explanation. There was a loud sigh, and then the sound of someone walking away. Miku grinned.

Yuma was lying on his bed, staring up at the ceiling as he waited for his childhood best friend to stop hogging the bathroom. She was incredibly stubborn, and Yuma knew that no amount of shouting would make her hurry.

It was an annoying trait, but also one he found strangely adorable. At times. At other times, it made him want to wrap his fingers around her throat and throttle her to death.

The door finally opened, releasing a cloud of steam into his room, and Miku came out of his bathroom, looking refreshed and...sexy, in her figure-hugging black sweater and leather pants. Yuma stared - well, he was a guy, after all.

Unfortunately, Miku noticed him staring at her. ''Look some more, Yuma, and I'll gouge your eyes out,'' she warned. She tossed a towel at him, and he caught it. There was a hint of her vanilla fragrance on the cloth.

''You used my towel. It's tainted now,'' he complained. She shot him a look filled with disdain, then folded her arms.

''Use it or don't. I don't care. And anyway, you'd better hurry. I'm going to time you, and if you take any longer than me then I'm going to hog your bathroom for a week.''

''You're a monster,'' Yuma grumbled, stalking into the bathroom. He blew out as a solid wall of steam slammed into his face - how hot had Miku turned the temperature to? ''Hey, if you keep on showering with all this hot water, you're going to get wrinkles young.''

''Shut up,'' she growled at him from outside the bathroom, and he laughed as he closed the door behind him.

Miku bounced on Yuma's bed, waiting for him so that they could go visit the _first _Academy together. The Academy constantly shifted to avoid detection by the law, but it usually shifted to the same few places. The First Academy was near Yuma's house, in a building which was officially registered to be a warehouse.

Yuma was out in slightly over a minute, before she had a chance to start messing through all his stuff - which was a pity, because she would have liked to take a look at all the targets he had been set these past three years. He stared at her, in a way which made her feel like he knew exactly what she had wanted to do.

He wasn't wearing a shirt, and to hide her discomfort Miku threw a pillow at him. ''Go put a shirt on. I'm going blind.''

Slowly, his lips tilted up into a smile. ''Well, I never asked you to look at me,'' he ran his fingers through his sexily dishevelled, dripping pink hair, and Miku rolled her eyes.

''You're so irritating. How can anyone like you? Stop flirting with me before I throw up all over your blankets,'' she threatened. He huffed at her and sauntered over to his dresser, choosing a shirt at random and tugging it on.

And even then, he looked good. His outfit matched hers - black shirt, leather pants. Assassins liked black clothes. They were good for hiding bloodstains. And as for leather...well, leather was just cool.

Miku ignored him as he approached her, and he chuckled softly. ''You're not still mad that I yelled at you to hurry up while showering, right?'' his voice was humorous.

She folded her arms and turned away from him, a smile tugging at the edges of her lips. ''I wouldn't waste my energy getting mad at you over something so stupid.''

''Then stop ignoring me, Miku,'' he pouted, and Miku jabbed her elbow into his stomach. He bent over dramatically, gasping in mock pain, and once more she rolled her eyes at the antics of her best friend. ''Come on, we're going to be late. Gumo won't be happy.''

He straightened, instantly switching to his serious, assassin mood. That sudden mood shift unnerved her, at times - sometimes, Yuma was her silly, friendly best friend. At other times, he was a silent, cold-blooded killer.

Then again, all assassins had to be like that. They couldn't ever afford to soften, to show mercy towards their victims. It was either kill, or be hunted down by the law. Miku sighed.

Yuma glanced at her questioningly, but he didn't comment. Rising from his bed, he held out a hand to pull her up. She stared at his outstretched hand for a while, then took it, and exhaling he tugged her up from the bed.

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

''You two are one minute, thirty-three seconds late. Sit down,'' was Gumo's greeting as she and Yuma walked into the Academy's office.

She and Yuma exchanged a glance. They were used to Gumo. He was incredibly fussy, expecting nothing but the best, and one thing he absolutely detested was tardiness.

''So, why did you call us back? And why didn't you tell us that you told the both of us to come?'' Miku asked, getting straight to the point.

Gumo shrugged. ''I forgot,'' he ran his fingers through his light green hair. ''Anyway, you're both here now, and that's what's important, isn't it?'' he shrugged once again.

Miku and Yuma waited for the temperamental Headmaster to continue. Gumo cleared his throat, reaching out to a folder on his table. He flipped it open and scanned one of the inside documents. ''I have a case for you.''

''Who's the target?'' Yuma asked immediately. Gumo tutted, snapping the folder shut.

''You're too impatient, Yuma - that's why you lost to Miku, overall, during the graduation test, you know,'' he added pointedly. Gumo had been a trainer at the Academy, upon graduation. He had been Miku and Yuma's senior at the school until they were fourteen.

Yuma huffed and collapsed into the chair he was sitting on. Miku lightly punched him in the shoulder, and he glanced at her, rolling his eyes. She stuck her tongue out at him.

''And you two deny that you're going out,'' Gumo muttered idly under his breath. Miku felt her cheeks warm.

''We're not!'' she protested. ''We're just really good friends, that's all,'' she stared at Yuma. ''Say something.''

''What do you want me to say?'' he sounded slightly annoyed. ''You've already said everything. We're just friends, Gumo. Anyway, what's the case you have?''

Gumo whistled. ''A rather high-ranking government official, one of the...shadier ones who sponsor us, wants us to kill a business rival. A young entrepreneur, and a rising name in stocks and investments. This official is worried that he will lose all his stocks and shares to this new entrepreneur.'' Gumo rolled his eyes. ''I don't get it. He's just eighteen, just a kid - but I can't argue with our clients now, can I?''

Miku had to agree with Gumo's point of view. ''Business is a risky thing to dabble in.'' she mumbled. ''See, now they start hiring assassins to bump off business rivals.''

''Anyway, I want Yuma to be the one to shoot down the rival. He's a good marksman, even better than you are, Hatsune. I'll give you the details later,'' he glanced at Miku. ''Miku, you'll be the liaison between me and the client. I've been busy, lately - there are a whole bunch of new kids to train. So I might not be able to discuss with the client face to face. You'll help me with that.''

''What's the payout?'' Miku asked. Unlike Yuma, who was so rich he didn't need to care about the pay, she had to earn money to support herself. She had been fiercely independent, living on the streets as a kid...she swallowed, trying to push the memories away.

''You and Yuma can discuss between yourselves, but the total amount he's offering is ten grand,'' Gumo whistled. ''He must be pretty desperate to bump off this rival, if you ask me. Demanded that I ask for the very best - and that's you two, of course. Flawless.''

Yuma smirked. ''Why, Gumo, I'm honoured. Where's the folder?'' Gumo passed it to him, and Yuma flipped it open. His eyes widened momentarily as he took in the contents of the documents inside, and Miku craned her neck, trying to take a peek. He snapped it shut before she could see anything, though, and she frowned. What was with him?

''When does he have to be shot down by?'' Yuma asked the next most crucial question. Gumo shrugged.

''I was supposed to talk to him about that, later. But I can't make it. Miku, you go find out for me, then tell everything to Yuma. Understood? I'll text you the meeting point and the time, later. Don't be late again.''

Assassins and their clients rarely ever communicated through virtual means. It was too easy to be overheard, to be caught by the law. Usually, they would arrange to meet face-to-face, outside, and they would discuss matters such as the target and the pay then.

''Yes, Gumo,'' Miku rose from her chair, closely followed by Yuma. As she and Yuma walked out of the room, her fists clenched in anticipation of another job, and once again she wondered what was inside that folder Yuma was clasping to himself.

Miku Hatsune loved her job.


	3. Chapter 3

_We're nothing but really good friends. _Yuma gritted his teeth and looked away from Miku, his green eyes staring into the distance. How he hated that sentence. _Good friends, huh?_

''Yuma? What's in that file?'' Miku tilted her head towards the folder he was carrying. Yuma blinked, startled, turning his head to face her. Her large emerald eyes stared inquisitively back at him, and he swallowed.

''Nothing,'' he mumbled. _I can't let her see who the target is...I don't think I can even bring her along, when I gun him down. Is this why Gumo made me the actual assassin?_

''Let me take a peek,'' Miku wheedled. ''I won't snatch the kill away from you, I promise...'' the expression in her eyes was pleading, her full lips in a pout which almost made him give in to her. Blinking, he shook his head.

His lips curved into a slight grin. ''Curiosity kills the cat, you know?'' he teased. ''Anyway, I've never let you see any of my cases before...I'm not going to make an exception this time, either,'' he reached out, ruffling her hair.

She glared at him, then folded her arms and exhaled. ''But this time is different! We're both working on it for once, so shouldn't I be allowed to take a look, at least?''

Yuma couldn't think of a reasonable argument to dispute that, and finally he let his fingers brush against her cheek, tilting her head up to face him. He smiled. ''I'll let you see for a sweet, sweet kiss,'' he said slowly.

Miku's cheeks flushed, and she jerked away from him. ''Dream on, Yuma,'' she growled, turning from him and stomping away. Yuma smirked, though a part of him wished that she had taken up on his offer.

_Nothing more than good friends. That's all we are, aren't we? And I know it. She knows it. We both know that - but I can't help but yearn for more...though she doesn't know._

Yuma had been intrigued by her spirit and her toughness, from the very first time he had met her. They had been eight, both meeting at the Assassin's Creed, and they had fast become friends and rivals, envying and respecting each other's skill and ability.

He didn't know much about her past. She had refused to tell him anything about herself, other than her name and age, and that had just added to her air of mystery. Even now, thirteen years later, he still didn't know much about Miku.

Her tough exterior, though, hid a vulnerable, delicate flower inside. Miku was a skilled assassin, one of the very best, but she hated the sight of blood. She wasn't cold and sadistic like Yuma was, and she preferred to kill her targets as quickly as possible, with minimal pain.

Which made Yuma wonder, why she had wanted to be an assassin in the first place. There were other jobs which would better suit her more gentle nature - like a librarian, maybe. Or a florist.

Then again, those jobs wouldn't be exciting. And Miku loved excitement. Yuma loved to torture and hunt - he actually got pleasure out of it. Maybe that was why people called him a cold, heartless bastard. He didn't care. Miku, though, preferred the thrill of chasing down and stalking a victim. She hungered after the adrenaline rush of fear and panic.

That was where they were different, and that was why he was interested in her, as more than just a best friend. _Opposites are supposed to attract, aren't they?_

She was more patient, more willing to skulk in shadows and wait for the perfect moment to shoot someone down. Yuma was more impatient. He wanted to see the bright crimson of blood, and that had caused him to be reckless on more than one occasion.

Gumo was right. That impatience was what had caused him to lose out to Miku, during the graduation finals. She had silenced their target first, beating him to the kill. And three years later, he still couldn't seem to get over that issue. He scowled.

''You look pissed,'' Miku's voice cut through his rambling thoughts. He glanced up, startled. Hadn't she stormed away from him? He had been too caught up in his thoughts to notice her return. Her eyes were narrowed at him - was she still angry that he had refused her? ''Strange. I thought I was the angry one, around here,'' she said flippantly.

They were walking from the First Academy back to his house, which wasn't too far away. Yuma shrugged, running his fingers through his pink hair. ''Do I need a reason to get pissed?''

''Yes, you creep,'' she sighed and went back to ignoring him. He slung his free arm, the one not carrying the folder, around her slim shoulders, shooting her a bright grin.

''There, see, I'm happy now,'' his smile widened a little, letting her see exactly how happy he was. She rolled her eyes and shrugged his arm away from her shoulders.

''Jerk,'' she muttered beneath her breath, but there was the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the edges of her full lips. Her full, soft lips that he suddenly had the urge to taste. And that urge was freaking him out. ''I don't know why I'm best friends with a creep like you, really.''

''Because you love me,'' Yuma patted her on the shoulder. She pretended to gag, shooting him a cross look. Was she blushing? He thought that her pale cheeks seemed slightly pinker than usual. It made her look cute.

''Don't make me throw up,'' she proclaimed. ''Anyway, I'm not talking to you right now. Stop bothering me,'' she quickened her step.

He easily caught up, with his longer stride. ''Aw, don't be like that, Miku. It's just a folder, with a relatively unimportant case. It doesn't look as fun as you would normally expect. Don't be so caught up over the whole thing.''

''I really hate you sometimes,'' she mumbled, breaking into a run, clearly not wanting to talk to him. He grinned, then started running after her, knowing he could easily outrun her but purposely lagging behind. For the time being.

_Keep running and running, Miku...but know that no matter how much you run, I'll always catch up with you. And I'll surpass you. When you finally reach me, I'll be waiting there for you, with open arms._

He wondered how long it would take for her to notice his feelings for her were more than those of a friend, or brother. It had already been thirteen years - how much longer would the two of them allow this to drag on for?

_So you think we're nothing more than really good friends, huh?_


	4. Chapter 4

''Call for you, Miku,'' Yuma popped his head into one of his indoor training halls. Miku was honing her fighting skills with some holographs inside the stimulation room, and he watched for awhile. Eventually, he recalled that he was here for a reason, so crossed over to the glass which separated her from the main control room. Which he was standing in.

Grabbing the microphone on the dashboard, he pressed a button and spoke into it, ''Miku! There's a call from Gumo for you! Stop sparring with the pretty pictures already.''

Yuma was very proud of his training halls - they were very, _very _up-to-date, with the latest, state-of-the-art technology. If he could say so himself. Not that he was bragging.

Miku didn't show any signs of stopping, so Yuma sighed and flicked the 'on' switch off. Instantly, the holograms disappeared, and Miku shot a cross look up at Yuma, from inside the stimulation room. She was breathing hard, her face a little flushed from exertion, and the sight of her pink cheeks made his breath catch.

Damn, but he could imagine her lithe body on top of him, wrapped around him, breathing as heavily as she did now after a night of rough play. He could imagine her cheeks, tinted rose, her silky teal hair falling around her face, brushing his skin. He could imagine her melodious voice, calling out his name as his hand roamed her body, and he would -

The door leading from the stimulation room slammed open, snapping him out of his perverted thoughts, and then Miku was storming out of the room, her green eyes screaming murder. Yuma swallowed, becoming even more turned on than he already was.

When had he become so horny? It was time to get laid. It had been way too long since he last had sex. A couple of years, at least - he just couldn't bring himself to do it, not with other girls. The only person who roused him enough to make him _want _was...well, Miku.

But then, Miku would rather throw up than have sex with him. And he knew it. It was unfortunate, but it couldn't be helped, since she was so...not attracted to him. _Since I'm nothing but a really good friend to her._

''I was going to break your record on that stimulation!'' Miku huffed, folding her arms across her chest. ''It would be the joy of my life, to achieve something so great...'' her voice trailed off as she muttered something beneath her breath, but he didn't miss the sarcasm in her tone. ''What's so important that I have to be interrupted while training, you big brute?'' she glared at him once more.

''Didn't you hear me?'' he gaped at her. She cocked her head, thinking, then shook her head decisively. Yuma let out a weary sigh.

''Call. From Gumo,'' he said shortly. Miku's eyes widened, and she snatched the phone from Yuma's hand, an expression of sheer panic on her face. Yuma had to smirk.

''Gumo!'' she listened, then frowned, nodding. ''Yes...okay, I'll meet him. Red hair and pinkish eyes? Okay, got it. I'll be there on time, don't worry. No, Yuma did not just try to rape me. Your ears were playing tricks on you. Bye.''

Yuma spluttered as she returned the phone to him. ''Rape? What rape? What was Gumo talking about? I didn't even _touch _you!''

''He heard me talking about breaking records and great achievements. Of course, being the perverted Gumo, he assumed that you had just added me to your list of sexual conquests,'' Miku rolled her eyes. ''Gumo's an idiot.''

''No one would want to rape you, anyway,'' Yuma muttered, earning him another glare from the formidable teal-haired girl. ''Anyway, what was all that about? Did Gumo finally tell you where and when to meet the client?''

''Yes...his name is Ted Kasane, apparently. I've heard of him - wasn't he that government official who was involved in that whole scandal with some criminal organisations, or something?'' Miku frowned.

''Yeah, that's him. Ted Kasane. He had always been one of the shadier government officials - I'm surprised he has such a high-ranking position, to be honest,'' Yuma mumbled, running his fingers through his pink hair. ''He sponsors the Academy, from what I heard. I guess that makes him a pretty important client.''

''I hope he isn't a pervert, like Gumo,'' her emerald eyes clashed with his own pale green ones, and they narrowed. ''Or you,'' she added, and Yuma rolled his eyes in response to the jibe. He had heard that before. Many times.

''I'm not a pervert,'' he said defensively. ''I'm just a guy. Is it wrong for a guy to check girls out? No. It isn't. It's in our nature.''

''I don't care. You're still a pervert, end of discussion. You're starting to creep me out, you _pervert,_'' she stuck her tongue out at him, brushing past him out of the room. He caught a whiff of her rose and vanilla scent, and he found himself taking a deep breath.

Annoyed by his own weakness, he followed after her, intent on irritating her as much as possible. ''If I'm a pervert, then you're as sick in the mind as I am. No normal person would enjoy being checked out by a pervert as much as you do, Miku.''

She whirled around, a look of outrage on her face. ''Excuse me? I do not enjoy being checked out by you! What are you even _saying? _Since when did you even _check me out, _to begin with? God, I need to cut my ears off,'' she muttered.

Yuma pouted. ''Miku is being a meanie...'' he complained, shooting her a cocky grin. She gaped at him, then punched him, _hard, _on the shoulder, quickly hurrying away. Yuma winced. He admitted it - the blow had hurt.

''You're a jerk, Yuma!'' she called back over her shoulder, and Yuma smirked. It was so fun to watch her work herself up into a fluster like that. Especially because she was usually so calm and composed. It was extremely amusing.

''Aw, Miku's all worked up, how cute!'' he called teasingly after her. He received a screech of frustration from her as a result, and he choked back his hysterical laughter.

Sauntering after her, he headed in the direction of his room, where she would no doubt be headed. Miku always took a bath after working out, and she was also strangely attached to his jaccuzi bath, for reasons he could not comprehend. ''So where and when are you meeting him?'' he asked, dropping the playful tone.

She turned to stare at him, her cheeks still flushed. ''I don't feel like telling you,'' she huffed at him. ''I don't like bullies, or telling bullies stuff. It's just wrong, you know?''

''I did not bully you,'' he retorted. ''I was stating a bunch of truths in a teasing and unprofessional manner. Anyway, I'm all business now. What's the time and venue?''

She sighed at him, her hand on the doorknob of his room door. ''Of all places, _Gumo's _house, at three pm,'' her eyes darted to his wrist, where he was wearing a watch. ''Time now?''

''Two. There's plenty of time yet...but don't hog my bath, because I want to shower too!'' Yuma warned. She smiled a sly smile, and instantly he knew he shouldn't have said those words.

''Don't worry, Yuma!'' she chirped. ''I'll only be forty-five minutes or so.'' With a soft laugh at his growl of frustration, she ducked into his room, closing the door behind her.

He went to his room and cursed - Miku had locked him out of his own room. Damn. And she had his keys still, from yesterday. Why hadn't he taken them back after meeting Gumo yesterday? He was an _idiot._

He wondered what Miku would look like, now, as she stripped to take her bath. Instantly he moaned, then slapped himself to rid his mind of the mental images.

_I'm not a pervert. No, no thoughts of naked Miku. No matter how tempting those thoughts are. No nakedness, no no no. Ugh._


	5. Chapter 5

''If you follow me again, I will scratch your eyes out,'' Miku warned Yuma as she tugged on a black jacket and whipped her frustratingly long hair into a sleek ponytail. Yuma pouted, his pink hair falling messily over his green eyes as he folded his arms across his chest.

''Gumo won't mind,'' he argued. ''And anyway, this Ted Kasane man wouldn't care either. I'm his hired gun, after all. Wouldn't it be better if I'm there, as well?''

''I said the same thing when you refused to let me see the folder,'' Miku glared at him. Yuma huffed softly, then flopped onto his couch and began to sulk. She sighed. ''Don't be so childish. You're a grown man. Behave like one.''

''Coming from you? That's real rich,'' he snorted, staring at the wall behind her head. She rolled her eyes at him and looked away.

''Fine. Act like that all you want,'' she mumbled. ''And if people start asking you if you're really twenty-one years old, don't say I didn't warn you.'' Sitting on the couch next to him, she grabbed her combat boots, yanking them on.

''I don't need you to give me a lecture on my behaviour. Or how old I act,'' he sulked some more, and she sighed, ignoring him.

''I'll be back really soon. And if I see your pink hair anywhere near me, Yuma, I really will kill you.'' With that warning, she strode out of the door, slamming it shut behind her.

Yuma waited for ten seconds, then got off the couch and slipped out of the door, after her. He smirked - if Miku really hadn't wanted him to follow her, she should have strapped him to his bed with leather bands. And thrown in a naked woman, to keep him busy. Yuma always got what he wanted, regardless of what she said.

More accurately, he got everything he wanted except her. She still didn't like him that way, and it was a constant source of irritation for him. He looked around, searching for her, then grinned as he spotted her, a little ahead of him. Even from this distance, he could see her teal hair; it was so distinctive.

He quickly ducked behind a bush as she turned around, sweeping the area with suspicious eyes. She began to set off in the direction of Gumo's house, which was near the First Academy. Yuma slid out from behind the bush, trailing a discreet distance behind her.

She periodically turned around to see if anyone, namely him, was following her, and every time he saw her pause he hid himself. And he hid himself well, if he could say so himself. He was good at stalking people...

No wonder Miku said he was creepy. Yuma hung his head for a brief moment, then looked up, brightening. It didn't matter that his fantastic stalking skills made him seem creepy - it also made him very good at his job. He was like a ninja. Lethal and quiet.

Yuma had wanted to be a ninja when he was young. Except he hadn't known where to start. Anyway, being an assassin wasn't too bad either. They were the same things, in a way. Except ninjas were...cooler? But assassins were pretty cool as well...Yuma shook his head, frustrated at his wandering thoughts.

_I'm on a job. Maybe it's not my job, specifically, but it's linked, and it's important. I shouldn't be thinking such random thoughts._

Peeking out from behind the bush, he watched as Miku ducked out of the provisions store she had entered, nibbling on a leek. He smirked - that girl was insanely in love with leeks. She just simply couldn't resist them.

If only he was a leek. Then Miku's delicate hands would hold him, and she would nibble lightly on his skin, just like how she ate her leeks - ah, the good life of a leek. Yuma fantasized for a while before jerking out of his daydreams. Miku was walking off.

Hastily, he followed after her, making sure he remained unseen and unheard. She didn't turn the rest of the way to Gumo's house, and that made it much easier and less troublesome to stalk her. His lips tilted up into a smile.

As he rounded the bend, following her, he noticed she had disappeared. He frowned - had she entered Gumo's house so quickly? He hadn't even seen her cross the road to his door -

''Yuma, I'm going to kill you in the most torturous way imaginable,'' he froze, then spun around slowly to stare at Miku. She was smiling sweetly at him, but her emerald eyes screamed murder. He swallowed.

_Well, life, it was great having known you, even though it was only for a measly, pathetic twenty-one years. I'll see you again in my next life - and I'll never forget you._

''I'm sure we can talk about this?'' Yuma smiled innocently, clasping his hands behind his back. Her smile turned into something more like a grimace as she stepped closer to him, her sweet breath smelling of vanilla.

''I told you,'' she hissed. ''I don't want you to follow me. You were supposed to sit at home quietly,'' she jabbed a finger into his chest, ''and wait for me to come back so I can fill you in. But did you listen to me? No! You didn't!''

''I was curious. And you have no right to bar me from visiting Kasane along with you,'' Yuma complained. ''I'm every bit as capable as you are! I can listen out for details too!''

''And I don't understand why I'm the messenger while you can be the actual hit man!'' she retorted, her green eyes flashing with ire. ''Just because you're a male? Talk about sexism!''

Yuma swallowed. ''It's not that...'' he started, then he closed his mouth. No, he couldn't tell Miku that. If she knew who the target was...

''Then what is it?'' she demanded, as he knew she would. He shook his head, looking away from her penetrating stare.

''It's nothing,'' he muttered, and she regarded him suspiciously. Her arms were folded across her chest, and she sighed, finally relenting as he shot her his pitiful, puppy-dog look.

''You're such a child...'' she mumbled, turning away from him. He followed, but she twisted her head back to shoot him a glare which made his heart race. Damn, if she were that angry with him while they were having sex - that would be some really hot sex.

_I need to get laid._

''Follow me, Yuma, and I won't be so nice anymore,'' she seethed, clearly still upset over what she assumed was sheer sexism. How could Yuma possibly tell her otherwise?

''Fine, fine,'' he held his palms up, facing outwards, a gesture of surrender. ''Calm down, Miku. I'll stay out in Gumo's garden, okay?''

So long as it made her happy and got that homicidal look off her face. Though really, he wanted her mad at him. While she was naked. Maybe she would be holding a whip, and he would lie down there and let her do whatever she wanted..._I'm a closet masochist._

''Good boy,'' she smiled sweetly. ''I'll see you later. And just because I'm so nice, I'll try to get the details as quick as possible so you can know, too. Can't say I'm mean,'' she winked at him, then walked over to Gumo's front door.

Knocking, she waited, and Yuma watched as a red-haired man with faintly pink eyes opened the door. Yuma assumed he was Ted Kasane.

Miku shot Kasane a sweet, friendly smile, and Ted let her in, his eyes unreadable. He didn't act like a lecher - nevertheless, Yuma felt a sudden surge of possessiveness go through him, and he grimaced, glancing away from the door.

If Ted laid even a single finger on Miku, Yuma was going in to break them apart, no matter what Miku said. No one was allowed to touch Miku - no one except Yuma...

Or at least, that was what he preferred to believe.


	6. Chapter 6

''Gumo told me that your name is Miku Hatsune?'' Ted Kasane asked as he walked through Gumo's very neat house. Miku shrugged in response, strolling over to Gumo's favourite plush couch and throwing herself down upon it. It was so soft, she sank deep into it.

Her eyes flicked over to the window, and she saw a flash of vivid pink hair as Yuma glared at her from outside, his meadow green eyes boring into her. She sighed and frowned at him, waving her fingers to tell him to go away.

His lips curled, and he grimaced at her before he ducked out of sight. Ted watched them with amusement in his red, slightly pinkish eyes. ''Let me guess. That's Yuma, the one who's going to do the actual hit, right? Gumo said that you were the in-between, while he was...''

''He's the hit man,'' Miku agreed reluctantly. ''And he's not supposed to be here,'' she added beneath her breath. Ted either didn't hear that last comment, or he simply chose not to comment on it, as he settled in the seat across hers. He linked his fingers together, his gaze intense as he stared at her curiously.

''You're probably wondering why I chose Gumo's house as a rendezvous point, of all places,'' he shrugged, seeming as though he couldn't care less about what her opinions were. Miku's gaze darted towards him in reluctant interest as he stared down at his interlinked hands.

''Perhaps?'' she questioned slowly, cautiously. He was a client of the Academy, and one of its sponsors as well - but nevertheless, she was wary of this man. She had to be suspicious of all of their paying clientèle, after all.

No normal man would hire an assassin. It was safer for her to put her guard up, around those who sought her services - there definitely had to be some kind of shady reason why they hired her services, and that did not bode well for the characteristics and personalities of her numerous, faceless employers.

Miku had had so many clients in the past that all of their faces had blurred together, and she could no longer differentiate the numerous faces in her memories. There was nothing to make any single one of them stand out - it was always the same thing, over and over again. Always the same orders, the same demands.

Deadline. Target. Shoot. Kill. Four words that she had heard before, hundreds of times. Despite what most people thought, assassins and their skills were hired frequently. It was not a rarely tapped on trade - and there was always someone out there who had offended another person, someone important, someone with money, mistakenly or not.

In this world, you had to be tactful. A single wrong word, a single doubtful expression, and you might offend someone. And when you offended someone, you're not going to know what they would do for revenge. Assassins were mercenary creatures, and they would kill anyone and anything, so long as they were offered enough money to do so.

Assassins had no morales, and they were unscrupulous, indifferent killers. They were hired gun, and would kill anyone so long as they had enough incentive to do so. Miku had gunned down all manner of people before, and she was numb to all the deaths she witnessed...or at least, she tried to be numb. Distant.

She still found it a little difficult to shoot, sometimes. To end the lives of her victims. Yuma didn't have the same problems she did - he didn't care who his targets were. He was single-minded, objective oriented, and he would stop at nothing to complete his job.

Miku wondered exactly what kind of person had dared to cross Ted Kasane. She didn't know, since Yuma absolutely refused to show her the contents of the folder which had been given to him. And asking Kasane about who the target was would not give her that necessary air of...professionalism. It was important to seem professional - people would only hire workers who seemed serious about their jobs.

''Well...the reason is because Gumo is an old friend of mine, and I enjoy messing around with him. He has this borderline obsession with tidiness, and wrecking the orderliness of his house will help me feel better. And much less stressed up about everything,'' Ted smiled. ''But also because his house is private. It's easier to meet here than to rack my brains thinking of somewhere to meet, so that we won't get caught talking about...illegal matters.''

Well, assassination was still considered an underground trade. It wasn't exactly approved of by the government - unless the assassins happened to work for the government, of course. Then that would be a completely different story altogether.

Miku arched an eyebrow. Ted Kasane seemed like a fairly easygoing man - it was strange that he was actually so very competitive, to the extent of wanting to bump his business rival off. ''How did you know Gumo?''

Ted grinned. ''I studied with him, in the Academy,'' he said easily, ignoring Miku's widening eyes. ''But I didn't choose to become an official assassin, registered with the Academy, after graduation. I opted to enter politics instead, and of course I have my connections with the underbelly of society.''

''So...you were part of Assassin's Creed? Is that why you sponsor us?'' Miku asked, looking at the magenta haired man in a new light. His reddish pink eyes were filled with amusement as he tilted his head, thinking about her question. Ted had studied with Gumo? Then...he probably wasn't any older than twenty-five.

''I suppose that's why,'' he agreed casually. ''After all, the Academy sponsored my venture into politics...and ensured my high rank in the government,'' he smirked. ''Not that I achieved my post solely through sponsorship. It's just that, otherwise, they wouldn't have allowed someone of my relative youth and inexperience to assume such a rank in the government.''

Miku let all that sink in, nodding. ''I see...'' Leaning back in Gumo's couch, she watched Ted Kasane, and he watched her in return, both of them waiting for the other to say something.

''What did the target do to offend you?'' she finally asked, so as to break the tense silence between them. Ted shrugged casually, his eyes drifting to the bookshelves behind her head.

''I won't say he offended me, not really,'' he drawled. ''I just have an healthy interest in investments and shares. This young upstart, aged eighteen and a half, is buying out all my shares and generally causing my grip in the stock market to loosen.'' Ted scowled. ''I hate having business rivals, so...I'd much prefer that he be erased from the face of this earth.''

''Isn't that a rather minor reason to hire an assassin?'' Miku asked bluntly. Ted raised his eyebrows as his lips tilted up into a smirk.

''The last time I was at the Academy, it was generally frowned upon for assassins to question the motives and agendas of their employers, when it came to the reason why they wanted a paid killer. Has that rule changed, in the few years I have left?''

Miku gritted her teeth, shaking her head. ''I was just curious.'' Yawning, she stretched, sitting up on the couch. ''So, down to business. When, where and how? That is most important.''

''I know that,'' he reminded her. Cocking his head, careful thought filled his eyes. ''In a week. At...two fifteen pm. It's the grand opening of Apple's latest franchise, I'm sure you know where that is...and he would no doubt be there, since he's a major investor in Apple shares. Snipe him down. I heard that Yuma is an excellent sniper. One chance...that's all.''

''Understood,'' she murmured. ''Yuma has never missed, Kasane. That is one thing you need not worry about.'' She had never missed before, either, she noticed with bitterness. But she had been passed over on this, anyway.

''It's a high profile event, so there's a high chance you'll get caught. I would go out and scope the area beforehand.'' Ted sighed. ''Not that I think you won't do that, but I'll feel better if I remind you to check out the surroundings. I would prefer to do this myself...but I need to be there. I was invited to the opening as one of the guests of honour, and I can't miss that. I invest in Apple shares too, so I'm not missing this.''

''I'll tell that to Yuma. Your rival will be dead before you even have time to blink.'' Smoothly, Miku rose from the couch, then inclined her head towards the lounging man. ''I'll see you on the day itself then, Senior Kasane.'' Since he had apparently been her senior, at the Academy.

His lips tilted up into an amused grin, then he waved her out, staring idly at the photo frames on Gumo's neat, immaculate wall. Miku left the room quickly, intending to tell Yuma everything about what he needed to know.

Ted Kasane waited until Miku Hatsune was safely out of the house, before he took his phone out and called Gumo, just the way he had promised to. Gumo picked up immediately.

''Did you let anything slip about your victim's identity?'' was Gumo's first question. The green haired man rarely bothered with pleasantries. ''She doesn't know his identity. Yuma didn't show her the file, and I intend to keep her from knowing. She would protest, otherwise.''

''I didn't say anything, nor did she ask. She has been trained well. Because of you, I suppose?'' Ted leant back into the back of the chair, slinging his leg over one arm of the soft armchair. Gumo chuckled, a low sound.

''Yes...she had always been one of the star students, at Assassin's Creed. Four years younger than both of us. You should have hung around to train the juniors, like I did - she was a pleasure to teach. So eager to learn.''

''You just enjoy training because you like to watch the new recruits suffer,'' Ted said dryly. Gumo laughed aloud, this time.

''Oh, you know me so well,'' he drawled through the phone. ''But it's true, she was good at this. Yuma, too. Yuma was bloodthirsty. He hungered for the kill, that one,'' Gumo's tone turned pensive. ''But no, you just had to go and enter the perpetually messed up world of politics.''

Ted shrugged. ''That's where all the money and power is. You can't deny that,'' he smiled. Gumo let out an audible sigh, apparently disappointed by Ted's usual show of materialism.

''You have always been a stingy little bastard. I'm surprised that you were willing to make any contributions to the Academy, financially or otherwise. Anyway...when are you paying them? Or Miku. I doubt Yuma will take any money.''

''After they complete the job. I'll wire the money over to you. Yuma? Heard that guy's loaded,'' Ted studied his fingernails conscientiously. There was a slight pause on the other end of the line as Gumo seemed to think.

''Filthy rich,'' he finally agreed. ''His parents died young, left everything to him...he's a good kid, though. Not snobby or anything about the whole wealthy and rich issue. He doesn't like that people know he's rich - I think that's the main reason he dropped his last name. So people wouldn't recognise him and his family name.''

Ted arched an eyebrow. ''They both seem interesting. Those two. You say that they're your best, aren't they? Well...I wonder how well they can carry out their jobs. Would they match up to you and I, during our graduation year?''

Gumo laughed softly. ''I don't think anyone can ever match up to us,'' he said slowly. ''We were a pretty good team, back then. Before we went our separate ways.'' Another pause, this time less loaded, less apprehensive. Ted wondered if Gumo was going to say something important.

''Ted, you better not mess my house up.''


	7. Chapter 7

''I believe that you owe me something?'' Yuma asked, the moment Miku stepped out of Gumo's house. She cast a glance back at the house - she had completely no idea how Gumo had managed to earn enough money to buy this house. It was four stories high, excluding his rooftop garden...which made up another floor.

It was taller than Yuma's mansion. But where Gumo's house had height, Yuma's mansion had size. Yuma's entire estate was probably big enough to house a small African nation.

''Who's the target?'' she blinked up at him, then smiled winningly. Yuma growled at her, obviously frustrated by her words.

''I've already said before, it's confidential. Could you be a little more professional about the whole thing, please?'' he leant against the wall of the house, pinching the bridge of his nose. Miku gaped. Professional? Coming from Yuma? There was something wrong with him today.

''Well, since your target happens to be confidential, then so is my information. If you're really so curious, just go and ask Ted. He's still inside. I'm sure he'll be more than willing to _repeat_ the information to you,'' she folded her arms across her chest, glaring at Yuma. The pink haired man glared right back at her.

''You know I can't just do that! It'll tarnish my reputation for reliability! I'm supposed to already know the information from the go-between - how am I supposed to face him if I have to ask him about issues I'm already supposed to know about?'' he hissed at her.

If there was one thing assassins valued, it was their reputation. If an assassin had no reputation for reliability, no one would hire them. And if no one hired them, then they wouldn't be able to earn any money. Not that Yuma cared about the pay, but he liked the thrill of being hired, of having a job to fulfil.

''Well, you can deal with your own problem.'' Miku would tell him, eventually. She knew she had to - she wouldn't be so mean as to tarnish Yuma's reputation. All assassins knew how difficult it was to build up and maintain a good reputation, and she wasn't about to make all of his numerous efforts go to waste.

Reputation was difficult to build up, but ridiculously simple to tear down. All that was needed was one botched job. One small instance of seeming unprofessional, and your reputation could go way down. It was every assassins' worst nightmare, that a client would be dissatisfied with their service and end up spreading ill rumours about them.

Without warning, Yuma tugged her close against his body, eliciting a gasp from her. Before she could protest, he had carried her up in his arms. Despite his lanky frame, she could feel lean muscles in the arms which held her, and he carried her as though she weighed no more than a feather...which she was not.

She shrieked, struggling. ''Yuma! You better put me down right now, or I'm going to kill you. I'm serious!'' she kicked around, trying to shove her fingers into his eyes. He just held her a little further away, his grip around her tightening even more, and she swallowed as she noticed the look in his eyes. Yuma was being bipolar again - he had gone right into assassin mode.

The pink haired man kicked open the door to Gumo's house, and Miku blinked helplessly as he walked into the house, still carrying her. He inclined his head as he strolled casually past Ted, who was busy taking books out of bookshelves and tossing them onto the floor.

Ted glanced up from the terrible mess he was making. ''Yuma? Miku? Should I ask...what is going on?'' In a corner of Miku's mind, she thought that Gumo wasn't going to be very happy about the way Ted was demolishing his house. The green haired man was neat to the point of obsession - and that actually scared her more than any death threat could.

''No,'' Yuma said, voice cool. She knew that she was going to be in trouble - Yuma only sounded like this when he was getting ready to make people suffer. ''But you are free to follow us and observe the way I torture people.''

''Know what? I think I'll pass,'' Ted turned back to the bookshelves, picking out another book at random, scanning through the pages, then tossing it over his shoulder. The book soared right over Miku's head, and she yelped as she ducked, flinching as she felt the tip of the book narrowly miss the top of her head.

Yuma carried her up all the way to the rooftop garden, and slowly Miku began to understand how, exactly, he was going to torture her. He couldn't be that mean. Could he? ''Yuma? You're not going to do what I think you're going to do, are you?'' her voice came out as a squeak.

He stared down at her, then his lips tilted up into a roguish grin. ''What do you think I'm going to do to you?'' he questioned, striding over to the very edge of the roof. The rooftop was Gumo's garden, and there were all sorts of flowers and plants in there. It was a pretty place to die in. If she was going to die.

And then the pink haired bastard held her out, so that she was over the edge of the rooftop. She glanced down to see the ground...five stories below her. And instantly she began to feel faint. She detested heights with a passion. It was her only weakness - a weakness which was currently being exploited.

''Put me down!'' she shrieked at him. Oh, how dare he! He knew perfectly well that she couldn't stand heights - and now he was using her weakness to his advantage!

He stared at her, his light green eyes filled with sadistic humour. ''You want me to put you down?'' he purred. She felt his fingers around her begin to slacken, and she screamed, reaching out to hold on tight to Yuma's arms.

He smirked as she clung on tight to him, nearly hyperventilating at the thought of being dropped from such a height. And she knew that he would drop her - he wouldn't let her die, but he would certainly scare her. Enough that he would get the information he wanted.

''I'll tell you what you need to know,'' she gritted out, her fingernails digging into the skin of his arm. He winced, and she took a small amount of pleasure from knowing that he was in pain.

Yuma glared at the self-satisfied look on her face, then unexpectedly he let his grip on her slacken. Heart suddenly in her throat, Miku screamed as she began to fall, and she knew that she was going to die. There was no way anyone could survive a five storey drop...at least, not without severe injury.

Then long, slender fingers wrapped around her wrist, and Miku looked up to see Yuma, kneeling on the floor of the rooftop, his face expressionless. Seemingly without any effort at all, he hauled her back up, onto solid ground, and she collapsed next to him, breathing hard.

Yuma just sat there and watched her, his green eyes distant and cool. ''Just because you're my friend doesn't mean that you get any special treatment. We're assassins, and when it comes to the job, we don't joke around. You know that, Miku. Even I...don't appreciate being played around with. That's understood, isn't it?''

She pushed herself up off the floor - her fingers were still trembling - and then, furious, she punched him in the face. ''You jerk! I could have died!'' she hissed at him, her fingers curled into angry fists. He reeled back, his hand drifting to the side of the face she had hit.

She felt tears stinging at her eyes. She hated heights, and she hated looking weak - both of which were things Yuma had just made use of. Yes, he was someone who always, always separated their work from their personal lives. He cared not whether you were friend or foe. To Yuma, the only thing which mattered was what he had been ordered and hired to do.

Maybe that was why he was called a sadistic, heartless bastard. Because he was an assassin who cared more for his reputation than for anything else. He was playful and fun-loving, but when it came to his job he was serious...serious enough to threaten even her. His best friend. On the job, he was no-nonsense, and as he demonstrated just now, he would do anything to ensure that his job was unaffected. He would even torture her, if need be.

Sometimes, even though Yuma was her best friend, he scared her. He could make use of her weakness like that - if one day, she happened to hinder his job...if one day, he was ordered to kill her, would he be able to do that, too?

''Hey. I'm sorry about that,'' he whispered, suddenly pulling her close again. She stiffened, but she didn't move away, suspicious of what he was going to do. ''But I need the information, and I don't want to play your little games, Miku. Not when it comes to a job like this one. This target...is important to Ted Kasane. And we don't want to offend him now, do we?''

She gritted her teeth, but nodded her head. Fine. So maybe she shouldn't have teased him so. It was partly her own fault - she knew exactly how worked up Yuma could be, when it came to gleaning necessary information.

''Ted wants you to gun down the target next week, at the opening of Apple's latest franchise store. The target should be there at two-fifteen pm. Oh, and Ted wants to remind you to scope the area first.'' Though of course Yuma would do that, even without the reminder. Ted was like a nagging old man - then again, he was friends with Gumo. Who also behaved like a naggy old man. Birds of a feather flock together and all that.

Yuma nodded, his lips tensed up. He closed his eyes for a while, as though he was concentrating deeply, and Miku watched him as he thought. His long eyelashes curled against his pale cheeks - really, he had ridiculously long eyelashes, especially for a guy. For an assassin. He had those beautiful, thick kind of eyelashes which truly were wasted on a boy.

Those meadow green eyes suddenly snapped open, and quickly Miku averted her gaze. She didn't want Yuma to catch her staring at him while his eyes were closed - she was supposed to be furious at him. And she still was. His expression softened. ''I'm sorry,'' he whispered, his fingers brushing against her cheek. ''You know I wouldn't really have let you fall.''

''What if you hadn't caught me in time?'' she demanded. ''I would have died! I hate heights, and you know that perfectly well, Yuma.''

''That's why I knew it would get you to relent,'' he smirked, but only for a brief while. Quickly, he pecked her on the cheek, a chaste kiss which made her gasp in shock. ''Forgive me?''

He gave her a pleading look, those same heart melting puppy dog eyes he always shot her whenever he wanted her to give in to him. And she was sad to say that those eyes always worked. ''I will hate you for the rest of my life, Yuma. Even if I forgive you, you're still a jerk.''

He smiled. ''I won't do that, ever again,'' his voice was like warm honey, silken and sweet. ''You have my promise. Even if I want to find out something from you, I'll never threaten to throw you off a tall building ever again.''

''So you'll throw me off a short building then.''

He sighed and rolled his eyes. ''I'll never throw you off any building, not again. I'll also never make use of your fear of heights ever again. Are you satisfied now, Miku?''

''Not really,'' she mumbled. But being the kind soul that she was, she opted to forgive him. He was her partner after all, and it wouldn't be professional of her to hold a grudge just because he was doing his job. Anyway, Yuma was her best friend, and she practically lived in his house, sometimes. She couldn't hate him.

Maybe she would get her revenge later by hogging his jacuzzi bath. He hated it whenever she did that.


	8. Chapter 8

Yuma was still trying to quell the guilt that he felt. Gritting his teeth, he averted his gaze from that head of silky teal hair, his eyes drifting to the pavement before him. Miku was walking before him, her posture stiff, and he knew that she still wasn't happy with him. But then, who could blame her? He had almost dropped her off a building. She was right - she could've died.

Or at the very least, she would have sustained some extremely serious injuries. He wasn't supposed to feel guilty about doing his job - he had done worse before. He was an assassin. He had done more than just threaten...he had killed, and he had never once felt guilty about that. After all, cold-blooded murder was what he was paid for. It was what he enjoyed. Ever since young, this job was what he had loved.

Miku hadn't even been hurt. She had been shaken, most definitely, especially since she absolutely detested heights. But the important thing was that she wasn't hurt. There wasn't even a scratch on her. Yet, for the first time he could ever recall, he felt guilty about it. He shouldn't have done this. Should he have? Sure, he was attracted to her. In a total, 'I want to have sex with you' kind of way. But still...

She was his best friend, and that was all she could see him as. So he was supposed to see her as only that, too. And there wasn't anything wrong with threatening a fellow assassin, was there? Miku had been withholding necessary information from him - under Yuma's personal rulebook, that was usually enough to warrant some serious torture. Followed by death.

And it didn't matter to him whether or not that person was friend or foe. Perhaps people said that he was callous because of that. That he was an unfeeling jerk, a heartless cad. Yuma didn't particularly care - it wasn't like people's opinions mattered to him. He relied more on fear than on friendliness to make people talk. He didn't like to make friends, but it was impossible for assassins not to interact with others. So he did that through intimidation.

Instead of building up contacts and a network of informants, as was sometimes necessary in their trade, Yuma just tended to bully people into telling him everything. It was difficult not to spill all your secrets when you were being held at gunpoint. Luckily, assassins didn't have to do that too often - only when there was some information they lacked which was needed for their current job to be carried out efficiently.

If Yuma had to threaten people every single time he had to kill someone, he didn't think that he would be able to do his job as quickly as he could now. Ted Kasane was a good client - he provided details and what to do. Some clients just gave him a target, then left him to find out for himself when was a suitable time to gun that victim down. Those clients, Yuma didn't like. They were either just plain lazy, or just plain stupid. Sometimes a mixture of both.

The job of an assassin was not an easy one. Yuma liked it, though. The thrill of knowing that he had the power to decide whether someone was going to live or die - he had to admit that he enjoyed that special sense of superiority. He liked to see the horror on his victims' faces, at that brief moment between life and death. The moment right after he shot at them, when they realised that they were going to die.

It was a morbid work of art, the gruesome terror on their faces. Yuma considered himself an artist, in a way. Assassination was a skill, an art. The victims were the canvas, and the twisted fear on their faces were the final masterpiece. It didn't matter whether there was blood, in the end - death was all that mattered. Despite what most people thought, killing didn't necessarily have to be messy.

He had always been like this. Ever since young, he had been sadistic. He had enjoyed watching the death throes of people, of any living beings. He had been the type of child who found delight in pulling the wings off flies. As a child, his parents had left him alone most of the time, and he had gradually developed a cruel streak from watching one too many violent shows. Mostly while he had been unsupervised.

Of course, violent shows weren't the only reason why he had become like this. He had quickly realised that people bowed down to him, simply because he had money. He couldn't have cared less about money - to him, it was nothing more than a bunch of useless notes. The notes that he were given couldn't take the place of his parents, though his parents had evidently thought that was the case.

He had decided then, if people only talked to him, tried to befriend him for his money, then there was no reason why he should interact with any of them. He had turned cold and aloof, and in a way he still was. Constantly being alone had led to him realising that people always had fun together, while he stood at the sidelines and watched. Why should people have fun when they didn't deserve any of it?

They were useless. And he had decided that he wanted to get rid of useless people, the ruthless streak he had inherited from his business minded father showing evidently in his own personality. Plotting, scheming, smirking quietly in the shadows as people were torn apart, shamed by his actions - he had revelled in it, and he had never once shown any regret for what he did. He had been cruel, even then.

It was around this time, when he had been eight, that the Academy had chosen him for training. He had shown a remarkable aptitude for plotting and escaping punishment, and the concept of revenge and self reward was nothing new to him. Ruthlessness and determination were what assassins were made of, and Yuma had exuded those two qualities from every pore. At least, that was what they had said.

His parents hadn't even hesitated when they sent people to tell them about him being selected to study at a 'special, prestigious school for exceptionally gifted children'. They couldn't have cared less about what happened to their son. Yuma hadn't cared either - all he had wanted was to get out of there. The home that wasn't a home, the parents that hadn't fulfilled their duty of caring for their child.

In Assassin's Creed, he had met Miku Hatsune. She had intrigued him, this girl who had shown absolutely zero interest in him - even after finding out he was rich. So, because of that disinterest, he had made an effort to actually talk to her. Even though she was as reclusive as he himself was. Dogged persistence won out in the end, and gradually she began to open up towards him. It had taken him around four months to get to know her name alone.

From then on, from the exchanging of their names onwards - though he hadn't needed to give her his name, since he had been so famous for his wealth, even in the Academy - they had slowly become best friends, the inseparable pair in their school. 'Just friends', though, was what she claimed whenever people had asked her about them. About her and Yuma. Honestly? He couldn't say that he liked to hear that sentence much. It irritated him.

Despite being friends with her, though, he hadn't known much about her past. He was good at interrogating people, true - but she was equally good at keeping her mouth shut. He didn't have many friends, nor did she. Actually, they didn't have any friends save for each other. Everyone else were just acquaintances, business contacts such as Gumo. They didn't have any actual friends apart from each other.

Despite her seemingly cold nature, Miku had been less reluctant to murder than Yuma. She was the one who had influenced him to tone down - assassins were supposed to be patient, to be able to wait for the right time to make the right move. Yuma hadn't been patient. The impatient nature he had, the yearning to see someone getting hurt, had made him reckless and thoughtless. Which was rather...bad.

Miku had taught him how to be more patient, how to skulk in the shadows to wait for the correct time to strike. Granted, he still wasn't anywhere near as calm and patient as Miku was, but he was much more level-headed now as compared to his early days, when he had just started out in Assassin's Creed. Which he supposed was rather excellent progress. He had yet to let his impatience mess up a job.

Unlike him, Miku hadn't been enthusiastic about killing people. He didn't mind killing - it got rid of useless people, materialistic people who cared for little other than money. So long as he could get rid of people and have them all leave him alone, he was perfectly fine. Everyone thought that his thinking was warped and his logic, flawed. Twisted. He disagreed with that sentiment, though. His logic made perfect sense to him. He got rid of useless people.

After all, people who could afford to let themselves be gunned down by an assassin were no doubt useless. Miku, however, had been reluctant to learn about the art of death, at first. Which had made him wonder why she had been willing to come to Assassin's Creed to begin with. He knew barely anything about her past, nothing other than the fact that she was an orphan. The only remaining relative she had left was her missing younger brother...

He didn't know how Miku's younger brother had disappeared, though. From the way Miku had spoken about him, it sounded as though she believed that he was already dead. Yuma agreed with that way of thinking, though obviously he hadn't said so aloud - it would be impossible for a six-year-old to live alone, on the streets, without his elder sister around to protect him from the dangers of street life.

Either way, Miku was a mystery which still puzzled him, to this very day. Like him, she hadn't changed a bit - she was cool and withdrawn around strangers, but around him she opened up. He knew things about her now...everything except for her past. Her past was one thing he was still unable to understand about her. And because of her mysterious, unknown past, she intrigued him still.

He was sadistic towards everyone other than her. Around her, he could let down his guard and just...joke around, if he wanted to. He didn't need to maintain his fearsome reputation for ruthlessness and cruelty. He had been the perfect assassin-in-training, back in Assassin's Creed. That determination to succeed, no matter what the cost, had led to him achieving things many of his schoolmates had not.

Well, no schoolmate other than Miku. Miku was better, more skilled than he was, he grudgingly admitted that. Sighing, he ran his fingers through his pink hair, loosening the thick strands of silky hair. The fierce sense of rivalry he felt with her was always tempered by that desire he couldn't help experiencing for her. Which frustrated him no end. He had noticed how, over the years, her body had filled out and developed. Becoming that of a woman's.

Even if he didn't like interacting with other people, he was still a man. And men couldn't live without sex...well, in his case, anyway. He had sought women out, but only to satisfy that biological itch. Recently, though, he had been unwilling to do that. Because he couldn't stop fantasising about having Miku naked, and under him. On his bed...or maybe somewhere else. So long as she was naked, he would be happy...

He realised the direction his thoughts were taking, and unhappily he shook his head. He was a sadistic pervert. But damn, the way her hips were swaying as she walked in front of him...it was torture. And Yuma didn't like torture. He was supposed to be the one dealing out the torture. Not the other way round. Though this torture felt rather good, in a way. It tempted him, making him want to reach out -

He stopped the train of thought, thinking of his parents instead. His teeth gritted - his parents were the one thing that could always get him out of the horny moods caused by Miku. His parents...the two people he had detested as a child, and the two people that he still couldn't stand the thought of, for the way they had treated him like he hadn't been their son.

In their eyes, he had been invisible, and they had thought that just throwing their filthy riches at him would satisfy him. That their wealth would make him happy, so that he wouldn't complain. Yuma hadn't cared for that wealth. Banknotes were worth nothing to him. Their lack of attention had turned him into this. Parents were supposed to care for their child. If they didn't care, they were useless.

Yuma hated useless people. Useless people deserved nothing less than a cold death. Everyone knew how Yuma's parents had died young, when he had still been a teenager, leaving all of their vast fortune to him. The family inheritance, the mansion he had spent so many lonely days in. The mansion he hadn't been able to stand the sight of, and all the memories it triggered, so when he had taken ownership, he had renovated the whole place.

Everyone knew that his parents had died. What no one knew was that he had been the one to kill them. Did he regret killing his own flesh and blood parents? At the thought of that, his lips tilted up into a satisfied smirk.

No, he didn't regret it at all.


	9. Chapter 9

_**Solitaryloner: **I just realised I haven't touched this story in ages. Don't worry, it's not on hiatus. I just, ah, forgot about it. For a moment. After this, I'll update A Faery's Fey Tale. Haven't touched that in a while, either._

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One week passed by quickly, and before Miku knew it, it was the day of the assassination. Yuma shot her a look, watching her warily.

She did her best to ignore him, her fingers curling into fists. She didn't like this. For some reason, the thought of today's assassination was giving her an...ominous feeling. Perhaps it was because Yuma had refused to show her what the contents of his folder were. Or maybe it was something else entirely. All she knew was, her intuition was acting up, and she didn't like it. It made her feel...tensed. On edge.

The past week, she had followed Yuma out to the assassination site. The layout had been fairly good for hiding and concealment - Yuma had been able to find a decent spot to hide, in order to take his shot. There ought to be a clear shot at...whoever Yuma's target was, even if the crowd was huge on that day. The rooftop Yuma had chosen was one of the tallest around there, and it was unlikely that he would be caught.

Yuma was dressed entirely in black, as he usually was. Assassins rarely wore any other colour, after all, since it was difficult to spot dirt...or bloodstains, on black clothes. Black also made them more hidden and inconspicuous - people tended not to notice others who were dressed entirely in black. His pale green eyes met hers, and Miku sighed, knowing that he would come back perfectly safe and sound.

So what exactly was she so worried about? Everything was perfect - Yuma had found the best spot to snipe down his target, and he would be in and out of there in a flash. After the gunning, all the people around would be panicking, and it would be a simple enough matter for Yuma to slip away, unseen and undetected. She knew, theoretically, that it would be perfectly okay - everything was fine.

So why was she so high-strung? Because..._because I know that it's safe, but only theoretically. In reality, it might be far from safe. Yuma might get caught. _Miku didn't know why, but she always worried for Yuma, right before he went out to complete his jobs. He was experienced, and he was every bit as good as she herself was, she knew that...yet, she couldn't help but worry frantically about him.

It was just that, Yuma was so very reckless at times. There was no knowing what he might do, if he was under pressure. He was impatient and hotheaded, and he always wanted to shoot as quickly as possible. This trait wasn't one that largely benefited assassins - in general, people of their trade had to know how to be patient. To wait for the best time to strike, swift and deadly, before retreating into the shadows.

Just like a snake. Much like a snake, in fact. Assassins were like snakes, dangerous but inconspicuous. Her fingers traced a familiar pattern across the shirt she was wearing, tracing a swirling spiral pattern. She felt herself beginning to calm down. No, there was no need for her to worry about Yuma, she knew that - he was skilled. He knew perfectly well how to take care of himself, and he wouldn't appreciate her worry for him. He felt she worried too much.

''You're worried about me, aren't you?'' came the familiar drawl, as Yuma reached out for his scope. He attached it to his rifle - Miku didn't actually remember what the rifle was called, since she didn't care much about weaponry - so long as it got the job done. But she did know that this was one of the latest models, and it had a shooting range of over eight hundred metres...which was more than enough.

''I'm not. What makes you think that I am?'' she retorted, but the reply sounded empty. There was no actual indignation behind her words - for what he had said was all true. She was worried for him, but she did her best not to let that concern show. The previous time she had admitted to her nervousness for him, Yuma had complained that she mothered him too much. She wouldn't be making that mistake again, since he didn't appreciate her concern.

''It's written all over your face. Besides, you're tracing that pattern again,'' Yuma gestured to her hand, which she was unconsciously using to trace a spiral pattern across her stomach. ''You only do that when you're worried...'' Yuma sighed, running his fingers through his pink hair. ''Miku, I know what to do. This isn't my first mission, and there's no way I'll get caught. There's no need for you to fret so much.''

''But...'' she let her voice trail off. He was right, after all. The one whole week they had had, leading up to this latest mission, Yuma had spent scoping out the boundaries. He knew all the escape routes, and how best he could avoid detection by anyone, especially the authorities. There wasn't any need for her to worry, since she knew he would have covered all of the rudimentary preparations, such as these.

Not that she could control her emotions. He was her only true friend, the only person she had left with her in this world. If he ever got into trouble...there would be no one else for her to talk to, to confide in. To laugh with, and to share her joys and sorrows with. If he ever left her behind, then she would truly be alone in this world. It was hard for her to open up and make friends, but Yuma had made her do that.

It was just that...ever since young, she and her brother, Mikuo Hatsune, had been relying on each other to survive. They were living in the streets, just him and her, and she did her best to protect him from the harsh bitterness of street life. But then, one day, Assassin's Creed had kidnapped her off the streets, claiming that they were going to give her a better life. That she had been talent spotted for great things.

She had shrieked and struggled, and her brother, who had seen the whole thing, had tried his best to save her. But he was only a child, only five at that time, and he hadn't been able to do anything. The men who took her away had been too strong for either Mikuo or herself to do anything, and the two siblings had been separated from each other. Till this day, she didn't know whether he was alive or not.

The men had taken her to the Academy, and she hadn't been able to escape, for the security of the Academy was so tight that even an ant wouldn't have been able to pass through. So reluctantly, Miku had stayed. She had done her best in everything she could, but only because she had wanted to graduate as soon as possible and look for her little brother. She hadn't wanted to risk failing everything, there...

She had heard rumours. People who didn't do well under the harsh Academy training were usually taken away and silenced. No one ever knew what became of those failures. The Academy would then orchestrate some kind of plane crash or otherwise, and notify the families of these victims that their children had died in those...'accidents'. Miku hadn't wanted to end up like that, so she strived to do her best.

In the Academy, she had been closed off and withdrawn. After all, why should she behave otherwise, when she hadn't asked to be put in this place? Because of her cold aloofness, no one had talked to her, and she had been happy enough about that. All she had wanted then was to leave, and to get back to Mikuo. She couldn't help fretting over her little brother every night, wondering where he was. How he was doing.

Because she had been a bitter child, unable to accept the friendship or companionship of the people in the school...why should she try to talk to the people there, when she was in a place she had not wanted to be put in? All she had wanted was to leave. She didn't want to make any friends - she just wanted to leave as soon as possible, and get back to the one person who loved and adored her. Her younger brother.

Everyone left her alone...except for one. Yuma. Even as a child, he had annoyed her - but he had made her laugh. Then, he hadn't been as tough and intimidating, physically, as he was now. Yet, even then, there had been a spark of lethality in his eyes...something in his gaze which made people sit up and take notice of him. Something which indicated that he was a cut above the rest of the students, studying in the Academy.

Yuma had absolutely refused to leave her alone. Why, she had no idea. She had not responded to him at first, when he had tried to get her to talk to him - but then the pink haired idiot had continued to try and get her to respond. Finally, grudgingly, she had begun to speak to him, even if only to get him off her back. She had known who he was, even before he had started talking to her. After all, who didn't know him?

Yuma. The only son of one of the wealthiest families in the region. And he was talking to someone like her...someone unknown. A girl who had once scavenged and foraged for food, trying her best to survive on the cold streets. Life was cruel to street children. It was a struggle to survive, and to live, street children would have taken the gold tooth from a dying man. Miku had been just like that, before.

In order to survive, she had stolen. She had robbed. She had cheated, conned people out of their phones and money. She had even begged for scraps of food - she had thrown aside all dignity just so she could feed herself and her little brother. Yuma had no business talking to someone as wretched, as uncouth as she was - yet he had done just that. He had treated her not as though she was scum, but as though she was his equal. Someone worthy of respect.

So slowly, she had come to respect him as well. He didn't care about people's wealth - though she thought he would have, given that he was such a rich child. He was realistic, though his view of life was skewed - _life isn't fair, _she could recall him saying that to her. _And we're all scrabbling out here, trying to find a way to fend for ourselves. If we don't graduate from this place, if we aren't independent..._

_We'll end up dying. I don't mind dying - there's nothing left in this world for me to care about. But I don't know about you. We'll graduate from here together, okay? We'll be the very best this school has ever seen. _Eventually, she had come to really believe that. She had worked her hardest, and when she was eighteen, she had successfully graduated - they were the youngest ever graduates, she and Yuma both.

Even Gumo had graduated only when he was nineteen. So far, no one else had been able to graduate any younger than eighteen. Still, even after she had left the Academy, Miku had been unable to find her brother...it was as though he had completely disappeared. She had tried searching everywhere she could think of, even leaving advertisements in the newspapers - but then, there was never any information.

After all, she wasn't exactly sure what Mikuo would look like by now, even if he was still alive. It had been thirteen years since she had last seen her little brother...if he was still alive, and assuming that they ever managed to meet, would he be able to remember that he once had an elder sister? Would he know who she was, would he be able to recognise her? She didn't know, and that made her feel...scared.

Now, she had no one left in this world. No one except for Yuma. And she couldn't stand the thought of Yuma ever disappearing. Of him being captured, or killed, or anything of the like. For, if he disappeared, she would have no one left...and despite her aloof nature, Miku hated being truly alone. Every time she was left alone, she would recall her missing brother...she would remember all of her past failures.

She didn't want to recall her failures, not any one of them. And if Yuma were to ever be captured...or worse, she would consider that as a failure on her part. ''I don't want you to come along,'' Miku looked up, startled, as she heard Yuma say those words. He had slung his rifle along his back, and now he turned his head a little, meeting her gaze out of the corner of his eyes. ''Do you understand me, Miku?''

''Why?'' she protested. ''You've never stopped me from coming along with you before. Who else would watch your back while you're about to make the kill? If I don't come along...'' she bit her bottom lip. ''You'll get caught, Yuma! And you know that! You can't possibly aim and shoot, and watch out for possible hostiles at the same time!'' she watched his green eyes flicker away from her. His back was facing her still.

Finally, he sighed. ''I know how to watch out for myself, so you don't have to worry about that,'' he said dispassionately. ''You just stay here, and don't move. I don't want you to follow me out this time, okay? Since I...I don't need any more distractions.'' Before she could say anything else about the matter, Yuma had strode out of the front door, closing it and leaving her behind. Leaving her alone in this large, empty house.

Miku swallowed. Distractions? He was accusing her of being a distraction? Her eyes narrowed at the thought - her. A distraction. She was even better at being inconspicuous and discreet than Yuma himself was. It was so strange - he had never once forbidden her from following him on a mission before, and she wondered why he did so, this time. She knew that if she wasn't there, watching him...she would worry for him. A lot.

He didn't want her to worry either, did he? Determinedly, Miku snatched her jacket off the nearby couch, then stormed off to the front door, intending to let herself out. She wasn't going to allow Yuma to have all the fun - she wanted to watch. And secretly, she wanted to reassure herself, and ensure that...he would be safe. She didn't want her one remaining friend in the world to disappear. To leave her alone.

To her annoyance, the door refused to budge, no matter how hard she tried to push it open. Yuma had locked the door - and she didn't have his keys. Huffing, Miku twisted around, studying the rest of the house. There were other ways out, she knew, ways that wouldn't require a key. She just needed to find them - once she managed to find a way out, she would be able to make her way there. To watch him at his work, to reassure herself that he was safe.

Yuma ought to know that mere locked doors wouldn't be able to keep an assassin in. Especially not when the assassin was Miku.


	10. Chapter 10

_**Solitaryloner: **__Yeah, I'm updating this since I got a sudden burst of inspiration for it. And also because taintedIris kept asking me to update this story. So...here we go._

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Miku couldn't believe what she had just done.

She looked back up at the open window, on the first floor - the curtains whipped around in the wind, and she shivered, squeezing her eyes shut at the very thought. Standing here, on the ground, made her realise that the distance...it was not a small one. She didn't know where she had managed to get all this bravery...enough courage to hurl herself out of that tiny hole in the wall. Without killing herself, or the like.

It had been a last resort, throwing herself out of the first floor window. Yuma had clearly been preparing for this - every single exit was locked, and she couldn't force any of the doors open since they were all locked from the outside. The pink haired idiot had also sealed all the ground floor windows, and try as she might, Miku couldn't break the glass. It was only today that she managed to find out, all of Yuma's windows had industrial-strength bulletproof glass.

Or perhaps they were missile-proof. She had no idea. She was getting frustrated, especially since she hadn't managed to find any secret ways out of the giant mansion. The whole time, she was worrying about Yuma, about the task he was set - about everything, in general. So, irritatedly, she had wandered up the stairs to the first floor...and there, she found out that Yuma had not locked any of those windows.

Perhaps he was relying on her fear of heights, thinking that she would never dare to use the first floor windows as an escape route. Or maybe, as usual, he was just too impatient to care about such details. Either way, it had been a mistake on his part. Knowing that she had successfully found her way out of her luxurious prison, Miku had closed her eyes, taken a deep breath, and jumped out of the open window.

She was grateful that the Academy taught all of them how to jump down from great heights. She knew the exact way to bend her knees as she jumped, so that she would suffer minimal impact from the landing. Now, Miku brushed her hair away from her face - the wind was blowing her teal hair everywhere, and she found it annoying. She had considered cutting her long hair before, but...she didn't want to.

It would be considerably more practical to crop her teal hair short, as most female assassins did - but the thing was, Miku felt that her long hair was the only feminine thing about her that she had left. She was as skinny as a stick, with barely any figure to boast about - years of harsh training had honed her body, stripping her of any curves or femininity. She had no chest to speak of, either. Nothing to set her apart from a boy, actually...other than her long, silky hair.

It was her crowning glory, and she didn't wish to part with it, no matter how tedious it was to care for such long locks. Yuma agreed with her decision not to cut her hair - he said that her long hair was the only way he could tell she was a girl. Miku didn't appreciate the fact that he considered her a tomboy. Despite being an assassin, expected to be all tough and cold, she was actually rather fond of dressing up.

Not that she had many occasions to doll herself up, since most of the time she was either training, or assassinating someone. It didn't always have to be a shooting kill. Sometimes, Miku would go to some fancy party, wearing a necklace or ring that contained deadly poison. She would then spike the target's drink with the poison, while they weren't looking. This was an old method of murder, but it was effective.

Of course, these parties were the only way she could dress up. Otherwise...she was usually in her head-to-toe black leather ensemble. Not that she disliked her outfit...she just wanted to be able to dress up nicely, for once. In a pretty dress, with make-up and accessories. Yes, she could always do so when she had spare time, but even if she dolled herself up, it wasn't like she had anyone to impress. Other than Yuma.

And Yuma would throw up if she showed up in front of him, wearing a dress. The thought of Yuma reminded her that she had jumped out of a window for a reason. Resolutely, she turned away from the mansion, forcing herself to focus on the task at hand - she knew exactly where she was supposed to go. Now, the only thing left was to find the pink haired moron. And when she found him, she was going to...well, she would make him pay for this, somehow.

He was going to regret trying to lock her in his mansion. He knew she was concerned for him, yet this was how he repaid her. Miku's fingers clenched tightly into fists - she just didn't want her only friend in the world to disappear. And watching him, watching out for him as he did his job...it was the only way she could make sure that he was safe. He knew that. So why had he forbidden her from following him?

But it didn't matter what he wished. She was free to do what she wanted now. After all, he wasn't here to stop her from going after him.

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_It's 2.10 pm now._

The crowd here was huge. Miku stood in the shadows, wondering who the target was. She glanced around, at the building Yuma had specially chosen for this occasion - she knew that the pink haired assassin was hiding up on that building, watching the scene. Waiting for the correct time. She wondered if he knew she was here. She doubted so, though - she wasn't standing near the crowds. She was hidden.

_It's 2.11 pm now._

''Have you seen the guest-of-honour yet?'' Miku could hear the people in the crowd, all talking and babbling excitedly. One voice, in particular, stood out from the rest - perhaps it was due to the nasal quality that voice had. It was a very...distinctive voice, she could say. Not that she recognised the person speaking. ''He's supposed to be really young, you know! Eighteen, and he's already a millionaire. Kaito Shion, I believe.''

Her eyes widened at the name. _Kaito Shion. Shion. _Kaito Shion. Instantly, she looked around, searching for the young millionaire - there he was, right in front of the store, holding on to a bottle as he talked animatedly to someone, his free hand gesturing wildly as he tried to bring some point across. His navy coloured hair struck her hard - yes. That was him. There was no mistaking that navy hair, those blue eyes...

_''I don't want to do it!'' Miku shook her head, the pink haired boy at her side looking calm and expressionless, as she let all her feelings out. ''He's just a kid, Yuma! He's only twelve!''_

_''Our orders were to eliminate the target's entire family,'' he answered, his voice icy. ''I know this is difficult for you. I know that you can't stand the thought of killing someone in cold blood, especially since this is your first mission,'' he leant close to her, wiping away the tears that trailed down her cheeks. ''But, at least, shoot the target first,'' he whispered, his voice snaking into her ear. Soothing..._

_She froze, her body still shaking a little at the thought of what she had to do. Yuma went on, knowing she was listening. ''Kill Akaito Shion,'' came the hypnotic murmur. He always had the most calming voice, the kind of voice which made you long to do whatever he wanted. ''We were sent here for a reason. If you find it hard to kill his son, then I'll do it for you. But I will not snatch your first ever target away.''_

_It was starting to rain, the earlier light drizzle becoming a deluge. The rain poured on her, adding on to her tears. Hiding them from everyone, even herself. She could taste the saltiness of her tears, the blandness of the rainwater, and she could feel Yuma watching her, waiting for her to come to a decision. He was the only person who had ever seen her cry, for she rarely cried. This...was the first time..._

_Slowly, shakily, she lifted the gun. They were standing right outside the Shion family manor, and she could see the Shion family, laughing away inside. Their target, Akaito Shion, a rich businessman who had offended one person too many. He was a widower, and he doted on his son, Kaito Shion - the twelve year old boy who was sitting opposite him, reading a book. They looked happy together. Peaceful._

_The scene of a warm, loving family that she had never had. Her tears slid slowly down her cheeks, her heart dying under the weight of her sins - in a few seconds, she was going to tear this happy family apart. Simply because Akaito Shion was, as the Academy put it, a little 'target practice' for her. She hesitated - she had never taken a life before. Not yet. Yuma saw her pause, and he sighed quietly._

_Gently, he took hold of her hands, preventing them from shaking. He guided her hands to the window, right against the glass. ''Shoot,'' he said quietly, his pale green eyes meeting hers. Knowing she had no choice, she nodded, fiercely wiping the tears away from her face. Making sure that her aim was perfect, she squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to look as she destroyed the perfect scene before her._

_Then she pulled the trigger. There was a loud bang, the sudden sound of shattering glass, and then a stunned silence. Miku forced her eyes open - Akaito Shion was slumped over in his armchair, his vibrant red hair covering his face. But she knew, without doubt, that the bullet had found its mark in his forehead. She was accurate enough that she wouldn't miss, especially not when at such a close range._

_The child, the navy haired child with the wide blue eyes, looked shocked. As though he didn't quite know what was going on. Slowly, he put his book down, making his careful way over to his father. ''Daddy?'' he tried - Miku could hear him, given the way she had sharpened all of her senses, over the past few years. ''Daddy? Wake up. Daddy?'' the child shook his father, but the red haired man didn't respond._

_The child backed away, reality darkening those blue eyes as horror filled his features. Lightly, he reached out, pushing the dead man back into the chair - his father's head lifted, red eyes blank and staring, a tiny trickle of blood flowing down from where the bullet had pierced his brain. The young boy shook his head in disbelief, stumbling backwards in his shock. ''Daddy,'' he repeated, his voice empty._

_Lightning flashed, illuminating the scene outside the window - a horrified Miku stared through it into the room, unwilling to face what she had done. ''What are you waiting for?'' Yuma hissed, the rainwater sliding off his face. ''Shoot the child!'' he tried to take the gun away from her, determined to finish what they had been sent out to do - but Miku didn't let her grip on the gun loosen. No. No more._

_She was not going to let the child die. Perhaps Akaito had deserved to die, for some reason - she didn't know, nor did she care to know. But the child. The child was an innocent, and she would not allow him to go down the same route as his father. Kaito Shion had a whole life ahead of him, and he hadn't done anything to deserve dying. Yuma hissed again, clearly frustrated. ''Sentimental fool,'' he snapped._

_He could be harsh with his words, while he was fulfilling a task. Even towards his partners. Even towards her. He never allowed anyone to stand in the way of completing a job - yet, here she was, doing just that. Thunder rumbled, long and low, drowning out anything else Yuma might have added. The rainwater slid down her long fringe, dripping into her eyes. She thought that she might be crying._

_Lightning flashed again. This time, the child looked away from his father's corpse, unshod tears threatening to spill from his blue eyes. His gaze locked with hers, and Miku froze, green eyes meeting blue ones. She was still holding on to the gun, and the child noticed that - his eyes narrowed. Something other than sadness filled his gaze. Something that promised vengeance. Vengeance upon her._

_She couldn't breathe, because she knew it was all her fault. With one last burning glare, the child ran away from the room, and she knew he was shouting as he did so - shouting for help. Yuma heard this too, and he pulled on her shoulder. ''We have to leave now,'' he said tersely, dragging her forcefully away from the window. The glass was completely gone, save for one tiny shard, hanging in the frame..._

_''Miku,'' Yuma said as they ran from the scene, she stumbling over her own feet as she hid in her own mind, unwilling to come out and face the reality of what she had done, ''I can guess how you feel right now. But the truth is...even if you spared the kid, you just made his life harder.'' He didn't turn around to look at her as he spoke, but Miku's head shot up, her eyes fixing on his back. She still couldn't breathe._

_''He doesn't have his father anymore. He's all alone now. You made his father die, right in front of his very eyes. Nightmares won't be a surprise. You should have done the kid a favour and just killed him as well. Now, he lives on, but he suffers,'' Yuma's harsh tone softened just a little. ''Yes, it's hard. Yes, it's your first kill. I was like you, too. But we're assassins. We can't let sentimentality come to us, ever...''_

_''I hate this life,'' Miku whispered, her feet becoming more steady as she slowly came out of her shock. ''I don't want to stay here as an assassin anymore. I only liked the thrill of the hunt. Actually shooting...I...'' suddenly, her friend stopped, and she stopped too, since he was still holding on to her hand. They were now some distance away from Shion Manor, and she swallowed, trying to forget it all..._

_''Miku,'' he breathed, ''this is our life now. We're assassins. We're paid killers. Death is a daily part of our job. Get used to it,'' he met her gaze, green clashing with green. ''That was your first killing,'' he murmured, the deluge making it hard for her to focus on his face. Even through the roar of the rain, she could hear his voice, intense and forceful. ''It won't be your last. You can't stay like this forever.''_

_She shook her head, unable to find her voice - she didn't want to kill, she had never wanted a life as an assassin - but he placed a finger against her lips, making her stiffen. His skin was wet from the rain, as wet as her own lips. Her face was wet with rain and tears. ''It does not matter what you chose. Even if you spare him now, you cannot spare him forever. The child...he carries a target on his head.''_

_''What do you mean?'' she managed to rasp out. Lightning crackled, lighting everything up - she could see him, with his fierce glare and his dripping hair and his soaked clothes, those green eyes boring a hole into her very soul. She imagined that she looked no better than him - she was probably, in his eyes, no more than a soaked, miserable, snivelling wreck. She had never cried in front of him before..._

_''Someone wants everyone in the Shion family dead, Miku. That's why we were sent to kill Akaito Shion, in the first place. The order was to 'leave no single Shion standing', and we didn't manage to do that. One day, another assassin will come to murder this kid,'' Yuma's gaze lifted, and she knew he was staring back at the manor they just fled. ''And that killer isn't going to be as merciful as you are.''_

Kaito Shion. The child she had refused to kill, six years ago. He was eighteen now. Still the same navy hair, the same intent blue eyes. The sole son of her first ever victim, and the boy who had vowed to one day avenge the death of his father. There he was, standing at the slightly-raised platform, right in front of the unopened store. Laughing. Talking. It was Kaito Shion, in the flesh. And again, she couldn't breathe.

_One day, another assassin will come to murder this kid. And that killer isn't going to be as merciful as you are. _Her eyes widened. _Yuma. Yuma's the assassin. And Kaito Shion is the target. Just like his father, six years ago. Like father, like son. _Her first ever mission, the only mission she had ever failed. Because she was unwilling to lift her gun, and shoot a young, defenceless child. She just...couldn't do it.

She wasn't going to let this child die, even if he had sworn to get his revenge upon her. Because he was an innocent, and she owed him the life of his father. She would always owe a life to him, and she knew that she couldn't just stand by and watch him die. Not when she knew what was going to happen. _That's why...that's why Gumo and Yuma didn't want to let me see the file. They knew I would react this way._

_It's 2.12 pm now._

''May we get the guest-of-honour to speak a few opening words?'' a voice boomed, throughout the whole area. Instantly, Kaito Shion turned around, a faint look of bemusement on his handsome face. Miku could see the distinct resemblance he shared, with his father - she couldn't fool herself into believing that she had made some terrible mistake. Because looking at him was like looking at Akaito Shion. Kaito looked almost exactly like his dead father...

Kaito stepped out from the sheltered area he was in, stepping up onto the small podium on the stage. The man standing at the podium, the one who had just made the announcement, gladly stepped aside to make way for Kaito. Kaito smiled at the man, inclining his head in thanks, before he turned back to face the crowd. Miku saw him tap at the microphone. ''Is this thing on?'' she saw his lips moving.

_No. _It was a clear shot, up on that podium. He was going to die, right in front of her. And the horror of her first ever kill, the shock and fear that had followed it...it would come back to haunt her, and in even greater degree. For, even though she wouldn't be the one to pull the trigger this time, she would be the one who had stood aside and done absolutely nothing. The girl who had just watched it all as he...died.

She didn't want to go against the Academy. The Assassin's Creed had an uncanny knack for getting rid of traitors, and if she interfered in this, she would be labelled a traitor. But she couldn't just do nothing, could she? Instantly, Miku sprang into action, rushing towards the crowd surrounding the small stage. Kaito had yet to begin his little speech - evidently, the microphone was having some problems.

_It's 2.13 pm now._

She shoved and elbowed her way through the crowd. Most of them were unwilling to move aside for her, fixated as they were by the young, navy haired millionaire, standing up and vulnerable on the podium. It frustrated her, for she knew that she was wasting valuable time. Every single second counted here. Assassin's Creed had already printed out and readied the death certificate, for the young millionaire.

This certificate would be presented to Yuma, as a trophy of sorts. Proof that he had killed who he claimed he did. The Academy always did that for their assassins, giving them the certificate to mark their victims - especially if their targets were high-profile ones. And Miku knew that the time stamped onto the certificate, the time of death, would read 1415. The time which Ted Kasane wanted the millionaire dead by.

She knew Yuma was waiting. Just waiting for the time to come. His fingers, flexing, twitching impatiently as he waited for the opportune moment to shoot. Waiting so that, when the bullet was fired, maximum shock and impact would be achieved. It was close...so close to the shooting time. How much time did she have left? Could Yuma see, from up on that building, that she was here? Could he see her teal hair as she struggled her way through the crowd?

''...so young, to already be a millionaire...'' ''...he's already been featured on Forbes magazine, you know!...'' ''...named one of the most eligible bachelors around, pity he's so young...'' all around her, Miku could hear the buzzing hum of people as they talked excitedly, in the crowd. She wanted to scream out in frustration - the millionaire they were talking about was going to die unless they made way for her, dammit!

Kaito appeared to have gotten the microphone issue settled, whatever it was. He cleared his throat, tapping at the microphone to catch everyone's attention, and the people fell silent. ''Well, isn't today a good day?'' he smiled, his blue eyes warm and welcoming. ''Now, since I'm only eighteen, as all of you should know, I'm not really any good at giving long speeches. But I suppose I can try my best, this time round.''

As he continued speaking, talking about how far Apple had come since its early days, as well as about how it was a wonderful company which never before had succumbed to failure - which, Miku was sure he was obligated to talk about - the tealette finally managed to make her way to the very front, right before the stage. Kaito Shion continued giving his speech, glancing down at his notes every once in a while.

There was a strained smile on his face, now that she could look at him, up close. Miku was good at reading people, and she could tell from that strained smile, that Kaito wished he could be anywhere but here. She had to pause for a moment, trying to catch her breath - weaving through that crowd was like trying to swim in the opposite direction of a strong current. Actually, this reminded her of one time, in Spain.

She had been sent to Spain to gun someone down. The target managed to find out that his enemies wanted him dead, and he tried to flee from her. Miku had to chase the target through a crowd as well, and she hadn't particularly enjoyed the experience. Which was why, for the first time, when she finally managed to catch up to him, she only felt the slightest tinge of guilt as she used her gun to blow his brains out.

Yuma had joked about it afterwards, saying this was concrete proof that she was not a 'people person'. She found a small smile curving her lips at the thought, and instantly, she snapped out of it - _assassins cannot afford to be careless. To be distracted or sentimental. I'm guilty of doing all that, right now. _She didn't know how much longer she had before Yuma's finger pulled the trigger. Before Kaito Shion was assassinated.

_It's 2.14 pm now._

With that thought in mind, she clambered up on stage, right in front of everyone, kicking all the security guards aside as they tried to prevent her from doing so. There was a shocked gasp as the crowd noticed her actions, and Kaito's speech slowed to a stop, him staring at her as she walked towards him, trying to ignore the gazes of the crowd as they eyed her back. Trying to ignore the mutters and whispers.

_Yuma will be wondering what the hell I'm doing. No. He won't wonder. Because he knows me well enough to know what I'm going to do. _Miku thought all that to herself, feeling a little hysterical at the moment, knowing that the pink haired assassin was probably cursing at her right now. As she walked towards the podium, everyone gaping at her in shock, Kaito's blue eyes widened. Filling with recognition.

And, as recognition came, so did the anger. She saw fury blazing within those dark blue eyes. It wasn't a petty anger, a childish anger - it was a sad anger. The desperate anger of a man who had had everything taken away from him. ''It's you!'' he hissed, stepping out to meet her, his dark blue eyes filled with a strange mixture of anger and sadness. Just like that time, six years ago, when he was just an innocent child...

She wondered why he was sad, upon seeing her. She thought that he would only be angry. But then again, it wasn't like she would have any idea how he felt. After all, she had never met the family of any of her victims, before. Seeing him now, so close to her, so confused and upset and disbelieving, made her pause as well. How was she supposed to react, seeing the son of the first person she ever killed?

But she knew she had to move. She was in Yuma's line of fire. And, as everyone in the Academy knew, Yuma was cold and heartless. He was the perfect assassin, the ultimate killing machine, the one who wouldn't rest until he did what he was ordered to do. He wouldn't hesitate to shoot down innocents, just to get at his target. Miku knew that, even if she was his best friend, he would shoot her down as well.

_Yuma...if you were ever ordered to kill me, would you do such a thing? _She had never asked him this question, and he had never told her the answer. Because both of them knew that he would set aside everything, kill even his dearest, closest companions, just so he would not fail on a mission. A semi-hysterical laugh threatened to bubble past her lips - to think, of all the people to befriend, she chose him.

The anger in Kaito's eyes was already fading, slowly but surely, as she just stood there, not making a single move. ''Why?'' he asked her, his voice soft. Miku just stared at him - and, without answering his question, she seized the navy haired boy's hand, pulling him away from the stage. He protested, trying to struggle away from her, but her grip was firm, and she didn't allow him to escape. _To keep you alive..._

_It's 2.15 pm._

The very second Kaito was dragged away from the podium, there came the sound of breaking glass - where his head had been just an instant ago, there was now a shattered glass panel. The window of the store, which had been right behind Kaito, behind the stage, was completely destroyed. All that was left were a few glass shards, clinging on to the frame of the window. Miku shivered - too familiar. All too familiar...

It was starting to rain, the first few drops of water hitting her nose. The sky was rapidly darkening, and she knew a storm was about to come. In the shocked silence that followed the shattering of the glass, a rumble of thunder boomed - and suddenly, someone screamed. It set the crowd off, and then everyone was yelling, crying, sobbing - the confusion made it easier for her to escape, without detection.

Kaito was still behind her, but this time, he did not protest, evidently shocked by his narrow brush with death. In fact, he didn't make a single sound until she pulled him into an alley, a fair distance away from the scene. They had run the whole distance, and now, he was panting a little. Even Miku had to catch her breath, as she stared at the navy haired boy uncertainly. How would he react to her now? They were alone.

''You...'' he seemed at a loss for words, his breaths still coming quick and fast. ''Why did you...save me?'' he finally asked. ''You...you killed my father...'' he exhaled, his blue eyes closing. ''I...saw you. Why...why did you...do it?'' his eyes flicked open, his intense gaze fixing upon her. Miku licked her lips quickly - the rain fell upon them, drenching them, soaking her to the bone. Should she answer his question?

This was too much like six years ago. The rain. The guilt. Everything. The only difference was, this time, Yuma wasn't here by her side. She slowly parted her lips, desperately thinking of something to say. Anything. Something which wouldn't shatter the boy standing before her. He looked so miserable - it made her think of the moment he first realised that his father...his father was really dead, and not just asleep.

''Why did you save me?'' Kaito repeated, when it seemed clear that she wasn't going to answer. His blue eyes hardened - it appeared that he had managed to get his breath back. ''You killed the only kin I had left,'' he said softly. ''You might as well have killed me, too. Why didn't you do that?'' his voice flooded with anger, as he glanced away from her. ''Why did you save me from that?'' a sullen demand for an answer.

She wondered why he hadn't tried to kill her yet, to retaliate. ''I -'' she started, but then she paused. She didn't know how to phrase it in a way that wouldn't hurt him. He looked back at her, his eyes filled with reluctant curiosity - a morbid curiosity. A desperate hunger to know _why _shone in those blue eyes, reminding her of herself. She had been that desperate before, too. Desperate to know something. Anything.

Miku wondered why she was still here. She could leave now, if she wanted to. She could leave, throwing her memories of the past aside - she would have to think of a plan to avoid the Academy now, since she had foiled Yuma's assassination attempt. And the Academy didn't take well to traitors. She ought to be running away, by now - but she wasn't. Why? _Kaito...he's the same age as my little brother would be now, if he had still been alive. Eighteen._

''You...you look so much like him,'' he muttered, almost to himself. She blinked, staring at him. ''Like siblings, maybe,'' he continued, his gaze flicking back and forth, between her and the alley entrance. ''But he said that his sister died a long time ago. And what are the odds?'' he laughed softly, bitterly. ''That my father's killer would be my best friend's sister? No. I don't think so. Who are you?'' his voice was even.

The last part had been directed at her, but she ignored him, her mind trying to process the words she heard him muttering. ''Wait. You said...your best friend...I look like him?'' she asked, unwanted hope blossoming in her chest, evident in the sudden softness of her voice. Thunder boomed again, almost drowning out his quiet agreement. She swallowed. ''Who is he?'' she asked. No, she almost begged.

''Why do you want to know?'' suspicion layered his answer. She paused. True. Why should he tell her? She had killed his father. She had murdered the only person he had left, in the world. Probably, if they were best friends, he would want to protect him from her, as well. Just in case...''I don't even know what's your name,'' he added, this time sounding hostile. Like when he had first seen her, earlier...

She was about to admit that her name was Miku Hatsune - but, before she could do that, she felt a hand clamp down on her shoulder. She tensed, her eyes widening as she realised that someone had managed to sneak up on her. It was raining, but that didn't give her any excuse to let her guard down - in fact, since it was raining, she should have been more wary, more attentive towards her surroundings.

''Who are you?'' the newcomer asked, his voice low. Miku gasped at the sound of that voice - it was deeper now, lower, but she still knew that voice as well as she knew her own. Unable to believe it, desperately trying to force that small shred of hope out of her heart - _it might not be him, I don't want to be disappointed again _- she whipped around, facing the person who had managed to surprise her. Green eyes met her own, familiar green eyes...eyes just like hers.

His eyes were cold, so cold and hostile. But, as her gaze met his, that hostility melted away, slowly being replaced by confusion. She stared at him - he was tall now, taller than her. Her eyes drank him in eagerly, not wanting to miss a single detail. He was lean, slender - it made her wonder if he had enough to eat - and his hair...it reached his shoulders, and it was the same shade as her own. Thick, silken teal.

He was so handsome now. But his familiar features still lingered on, in that older face - his green eyes, his straight nose, his pale lips, the sharp angles of his face. His high cheekbones, even the way his fringe fell messily over his forehead...it was all the same. He had grown older, but nothing had changed. She almost choked, staring at him - she had long given him up for dead. Thinking he was gone. ''Mikuo...?''

His eyes widened at the sound of his name, and she knew then that he really was her little brother. The simple, tiny act of addressing him by his name seemed to tear down some kind of wall - vulnerability leaked through that cold green gaze, as he stared at her. _Just like a little boy, craving only the warmth and comfort of his elder sister. _She couldn't believe he was here. And it seemed that he couldn't, either.

His grip on her shoulder - he was still holding on to her shoulder - loosened, and he let his hand fall back to his side. When he next spoke, his voice was layered with uncertainty. With both hope and reluctance. She understood how he felt now, because she felt just like him. She wondered if this was all just a dream, nothing but a dream - because never before had she come close to being reunited with him. To being reunited with her little brother. With Mikuo.

But most of all, that familiar voice rang with vulnerability, and it made her heart break, as he said one single, simple word - ''Sis?''

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_**Solitaryloner: **__Here, have a long chapter to make up for my sudden lack of updates!_

_Reviews are appreciated. I know, I normally don't beg for reviews, but I'm pretty sure there's more than one person reading this story...and I really hope to get more reviews for this. Reviews fuel my passion to write, you see. So...if you're free, I'll really appreciate a comment or two. It means a lot to me._


	11. Chapter 11

To say that Yuma was extremely angry would be the understatement of the century.

The pink haired assassin was literally growling as he paced his room, his fingers raking agitatedly through his dishevelled locks. He could barely resist the urge to go out at that very moment, and gun down the first person he saw – because _he never should have missed his target. _He had never missed before, and he wouldn't have either, were it not for…

He cut his train of thought. No. There wasn't any point in pushing the blame to her. He knew it – he had dreaded the idea, dreaded the possibility, but he knew that she would have found a way to escape. And, should she escape, she would never allow him to kill the intended target. After all, it was none other than _Kaito Shion, _young heir to the Shion Company. The sole son of the first man she had ever killed. No, the Miku he knew wouldn't just stand aside…

An assassin with scruples – who would have ever imagined that such a being could exist? He wanted to laugh at the very idea, actually. _Don't be ridiculous – hired killers can't possibly have a conscience. _But she had one, didn't she? His teeth gritted, his eyes closing for a brief while – he wanted to be angry at her, and maybe he seemed to be angry at her, but he knew that he couldn't fool himself into being angry at the girl. She had always been weak in this aspect; always allowing her nightmares and conscience to haunt her every thought.

His phone rang. His lips curled back from his teeth, baring a snarl – he expected this call, though he wasn't looking forward to it, and he wished that he didn't have to answer. But pick up the phone he did, and when he tapped the screen, accepting the call, Gumo's irate voice blasted into his ear, causing him to flinch. But only just a little.

"You failed," the Headmaster was seething, "You! Yuma! One of the best we have to offer – and you botched up the job! What do you expect me to tell Ted? He's a _senior _of this infernal academy, Yuma – he's going to start making snide remarks about the running of this school, get the Board to throw me out…you'd better have some excuse readied for me right now, or so help me, you won't be able to open your eyes the next time you go to sleep." Gumo's voice turned low and menacing, enough that even Yuma felt a twinge of apprehension.

He wasn't surprised that Gumo knew so soon. After all, the Academy had eyes everywhere. There had probably been one of their own, disguised as a passer-by, standing within the crowd, watching the whole event unfold in all its terrible glory. "You know," Yuma started, letting insipid boredom seep into his tone, "if your darling client hadn't insisted that I shoot at 2.15pm, exactly 2.15 on the dot, I might have actually killed the target. A few seconds before the timing – what difference would it have made?" he scoffed irritably.

"That's not an excuse for your failure," Gumo's voice was still cold as ice. Yuma knew to fear the present Headmaster of the Academy – the man was a renowned marksman, and even Yuma would not be able to escape his wrath – much less the fury of the entire Academy, for having brought shame upon its reputation. The Academy was known for creating and shaping the best, the most lethal, the ultimate killers – any failures were exterminated without question. Gumo was already being kind by letting Yuma try to explain himself.

_But they'll never kill me. I'm of too much value to them – plus, they know they'll have to spend much time and effort on trying to exterminate me…effort which can be channelled into doing more profitable things. _A slow smirk curved Yuma's lips, much of his previous frustration lessening – in all honesty, the anger he felt was not because he thought the Academy would try to stab him in the back. He was just upset that he hadn't managed to succeed in his job. _There my reputation goes, down a couple of notches. …Disgusting._

Gumo had been remaining quiet as Yuma's thoughts rambled around in his head. Finally, the Headmaster sighed, the breath crackling down the line, causing Yuma to bite his lip in irritation. "Ted has always been an odd one, insisting on the strangest timings – numbers hold a ritualistic sort of intent for him," the Headmaster grudgingly conceded, "so what you pointed out about the timing might be true to a certain extent. However, like I said, it is not an excuse for failure. Didn't you see Hatsune going towards the stage, before you shot?"

At the name, Yuma's breaths quickened. _Hatsune. _He honestly had no idea whether or not he was…frustrated at her. Angry. Wrathful. He ought to be. He usually would be, if anyone mucked up his plans – and, like everyone knew, he was good at separating his personal life from his work. He knew when to stop laughing, when to stop kidding around and get ready for business – but Miku had always blurred the lines for him, making him unsure of what his intentions ought to be. _It's not her fault. I know that. I normally wouldn't care._

_So why do I care now? _"I was looking through a scope," he finally said in response, his voice sounding slightly distant, his thoughts racing. "You know how narrow your field of vision can be through a scope – the only thing I could see was that kid's face. And, by the time I saw Hatsune coming into the picture, I had already pulled the trigger," he admitted that he had been arrogant enough not to prepare another bullet. _If I had another bullet…if I had shot another time…this probably wouldn't be happening right now. Probably…_

It was odd referring to Miku as Hatsune, instead of her name. But he understood why – she was on the run now, branded as a traitor by the Academy. Wanted for treason – an act which was punishable by death. From this moment onwards, Miku ought to be dead to him; he knew she couldn't survive. The Academy had eyes everywhere, and she wouldn't be able to get far without being murdered. Painfully. The Academy was particularly fond of inflicting excruciating pain upon those who had dared to defy them, and their rules.

_I wonder why she sacrificed her own life and safety just to save that stupid kid…_Yuma's eyes flickered to the photo frame standing on the dresser. A picture of him and Miku, their arms slung around each other's shoulders, laughing at the camera in carefree bliss. He felt a little twinge at the image – a twinge for what was past, and what would never be again. _She's never going to survive, never going to come back…_he had to stop being so sentimental, dammit. Sentiments. What were they? He had told her before, that she ought not to be so sentimental, that she should try her hardest to be cold and unfeeling – then what of him?

Gumo sighed again, evidently irritated. "Look, our reputation has been affected by this. The Board is thirsting for blood – if I hadn't stepped in, if Ted hadn't offered a suggestion on behalf of my friendship with him, your head would be rolling. As of present, we have another proposition for you, and if you screw up this time…well, even I can't save you, in that case," Gumo shrugged. Or, at least, Yuma could imagine the Headmaster shrugging. He wondered whether he ought to be worried, and ultimately decided that he didn't actually care.

Two words kept catching his attention, words which made him wonder about the gravity of his present situation – _The Board. _The mysterious Board of Directors which controlled the Academy – the ones who sponsored them, the ones who made all the decisions. The Headmaster was the one who oversaw the day-to-day running of Assassin's Creed; the Board of Directors were the people who had the final say in everything…including the appropriate punishment for traitors and failures. Failures…failures just like him, he supposed.

"What proposition?" he drawled, his eyes still fixed upon the photograph on the dresser. He didn't really mind dying, to tell the truth – but he would have to ask for some time to write a will or something. Yet, if Gumo was suggesting an alternative to Death…well, Yuma was all ears. "If it involves another assassination, then I'm all up for it, since Mi- Hatsune won't be around to interfere this time," he tripped over her name, changing what he had intended to say. _She's dead to me, dead to everyone else who is still loyal to the Academy. Isn't she?_

He wondered if Ted had just requested that Yuma bump someone else off, free of charge. Yuma wouldn't put it past the sneaky bastard to try obtaining free services – from what he knew, Ted Kasane was quite the miser. "Well…in a way," for the first time, Gumo's tone bordered on wary. "Ted and I negotiated with the Board of Directors; they know perfectly well that you're one of the best in our school, and it would be a terrible shame to put someone of your ability to sleep…" Gumo appeared to be trying to evade the topic. Yuma hissed, starting to feel impatient, and the Headmaster let out another resigned sigh.

"Your job is to eliminate the traitor, Miku Hatsune," Gumo said bluntly. Yuma's eyes widened, and he almost dropped the phone in shock – _kill…Miku? But…_"I do understand that this might be tough on you," if he hadn't known better, Yuma might have thought that the man was experiencing sympathy. But Gumo couldn't sympathise – no assassin could really feel pity for another being. That was an ability they had all lost ages ago. "And you don't have to accept. You won't die – it's just that, the Board said that if you refuse to do this job, it shows you still feel a sense of attachment to your partner, and…well, we would have to wipe your memory of the past few years," Yuma could sense Gumo fidgeting, on the other end.

_Don't touch anything which belongs to me. _"I'll do it," Yuma said immediately, his voice turning low – the sound of a man being pushed to do something he didn't want to do. _Ah…is it that obvious? _"Just…when?" he asked simply, not wanting to waste more words or time on such an issue. _I don't want to think about what I have just agreed to do. But I don't want to lose my memories – not just my memories of her, but my memories of everything I have done, everything I have accomplished…they're too much a part of me. I can't lose my identity._

"You have three months to track her down. Preferably, you're to bring her in for questioning, so it's best not to kill her unless you have no choice. I suppose you're allowed to be the one questioning her?" Gumo sounded a little hesitant, which was a first for the normally arrogant Headmaster. "The Board never said anything about that…" There was a small pause, barely noticeable. "I'm not any happier than you are about this, Yuma," Gumo finally murmured. "She's a favourite of mine too. I knew you two as juniors in the Academy; she had potential, I could never deny that. It's a pity…" his voice trailed off. Yuma's fingers clenched tightly around his phone, so tightly that his pale knuckles turned the colour of fresh snow.

"Don't speak of her as though she's already dead," he snapped brusquely, unable to prevent the words from spilling out of his mouth. "She's alive, she's still alive, and damn you if you speak of her as though she's gone," he realised how agitated he was sounding, noticed the chilling silence on the other end of the line, and abruptly shut his mouth.

Suddenly, Gumo chuckled. "Oh, you still have your crush on her, don't you?" the man asked slyly. Yuma stiffened. "Don't lie to me, Yuma – you've been crushing on her ever since you two were both students in the Academy, even a blind man could see that. There were bets amongst your own level, wondering how long it would take for that dense girl to realise your feelings for her. After all, she _is _the only girl you've never tried to push away."

"I…I don't…" his words faltered, and Yuma closed his eyes once again. When they next snapped open, the meadow-green of his irises were blazing with furious determination. "It was never a crush," he said, his voice cold enough to send a chill down anyone's spine. "It was _lust, _plain and simple, and I won't allow mere _lust _and curiosity to get the better of me. There will be other women, I'm sure," the words got a little hollow towards the end, but he was sure Gumo wouldn't be able to tell. _They're hollow because they're untrue – I'll never want a woman the way I want her, never crave someone so badly that I need…_

"If you say so," the slyness was still present in the Headmaster's voice, "then I'm sure that you'll be able to fulfil your mission in that time you have. Don't fail me again," the deliberate humour suddenly disappeared from his voice, making Yuma straighten, his fingers drumming agitatedly against his leather-clad knee. "Our reputation is at stake here – you cannot afford to fail again. Eliminate the anomaly, make sure there's no trace left after you're done. We have no space for traitors or weaklings." With that, the line was cut off, and all Yuma could hear was the robotic beeping of the disconnected line. Slowly, the phone was lowered.

He didn't really have any idea what to think. He was half lying, half speaking the truth – his feelings for her went scarcely any further than lust – _at least, that was what he tried to believe – _and he wouldn't allow mere feelings to get in the way of his job. After all, he was a trained professional, who should never allow his personal and work life to mix; he, who had never faced a situation of this kind before…he never had to kill someone close to him, never.

Because the only person in this world who was close to him, who truly understood who he was, was Miku. And Miku was the person he was now ordered to track and ultimately kill. It was a choice between his reputation and his best friend – he knew which one to pick, though he was rather sorry for that. She knew him so well. They knew each other so well – he would never allow her to get away, even if he desired her, because she was…because he was who he was. He was an assassin, and his job and reputation would come before everything else.

He tossed his phone onto his bed, going over to the dresser. After a moment's hesitation, he flipped the photo frame down, so that the reminder of what they once shared would no longer haunt him. After that, he opened one of the drawers, sifting through the piles of scrap paper – most of which no longer served any purpose – there to finally retrieve a thick, leather-bound book. He picked the book up, brushing the cover off, and gently opened the tome.

It was a graduation gift, hidden deep where he no longer had to see it. Something that all assassins received, upon the completion of their courses – a long list of all the targets they had received throughout their schooling period, and the status of said targets now. He hadn't looked at this in a while – hadn't wanted to remind Miku about all the people they had killed, hadn't wanted to agitate her…she had thrown her book away a day after receiving it. Yuma simply hid it where she couldn't find it. Her guilt always ate away at her, making her restless.

_Kaia Ayakashi. Age: 23. Gender: Female. Status: Eliminated._

Another page, another picture, another person he had sent to the grave.

_David Fieldsman. Age: 33. Gender: Male. Status: Eliminated._

Pages and pages worth of targets and kills. Pages and pages worth of memories…how many of these had been done solo, and how many were kills he had done with a partner? He could hardly recall anymore. He flipped aimlessly through the book, not quite sure what he was looking for, not quite sure what had possessed him to suddenly look through this dusty old thing – and suddenly, a name sprang out at him, stark and vivid and accusing.

_Akaito Shion. Age: 35. Gender: Male. Status: Eliminated._

_Kaito Shion. Age: 12. Gender: Male. Status: Alive._

The Shions…alive. He swallowed. His fingers slowly slid down the yellowed page, tracing the photographs pasted on the brittle paper – the redhead was gone. The navy haired kid was still alive. He had lived then, and he lived now, because of Miku's intervention. He recalled that night so _vividly _– recalled the way her tears had slid down her face, salty liquid mingling with the rain, the way her hands shook as she held a gun in her slender, delicate hands. Hands that didn't look suited to kill. Hands that were calloused, yes, but strangely fragile…

She was beautiful even when she was crying. Or maybe that was just because the rain was masking her face – maybe it was just because even then, he was attracted to her. Gritting his teeth, he flipped the page, taking the unwanted memory away with that page. He looked all the way to the back, where there were a few empty pages. Picking up a black fountain pen, he uncapped it, allowing the tip to hover indecisively over the blank sheet – wondering whether he ought to make a marking, wondering if the said marking would change his life…

Finally, he wrote. And, when he was done, he drew back to survey his handiwork. His lips tilted up into a grim smile – he was decided now, and when he was decided, he would see his goal to the very end. There would be no turning back now. Not for either him or her.

_Miku Hatsune. Age: 21. Gender: Female. Status: Eliminated._

* * *

Miku was sitting in the car, her eyes constantly darting between Kaito and the driver…the driver, her brother. Mikuo Hatsune. The boy she had long thought dead – the boy she could scarcely believe was actually alive. _He was so young when I was taken away…but he's here! He survived, he's healthy, he's…_her thoughts petered out. She was too stunned for words – still shocked by the revelation that her little brother was actually _alive._

Kaito was sitting beside her in the backseat, his blue eyes lingering warily upon her. She didn't fault him for being cautious – after all, she was an assassin, the person who had killed his father. If she were in his shoes, she would be suspicious of herself, as well. Though she could feel the blue eyes of the young millionaire, constantly boring into her, she kept her gaze trained upon Mikuo. The shape of his profile, the shagginess of his teal hair, the constant wondering of what he was thinking, whether he was glad to see her, what he was thinking of their situation –

"Are there going to be people, trying to hunt you down?" the question startled her, made her turn her attention away from her brother, for just a moment. Kaito was still staring at her, his blue eyes unreadable. She simply stared at him, and he swallowed before he continued. "I mean…you saved me," his voice sounded rather thick. "From whoever it was who wanted to kill me. And since you're one of…them…" his gaze flicked past her, to the window behind her head, "won't they want to kill you or the like? For betraying them?"

_This boy is sharp…_she hesitated in answering. She could feel her brother's eyes, studying her intently, using the rear-view mirror. Those green eyes, so much like hers…she looked up, and the two emerald gazes clashed. A tiny frown had creased Mikuo's forehead, and she still wondered what he was thinking. "I suppose," she finally murmured, in response to Kaito's question. "It's a dangerous world we live in," she laughed quietly, "and there was never any rule stating that assassins aren't allowed to kill their rivals. Or allies who betrayed them."

"I see…" Kaito said no more after that, huddling in his corner of the backseat. Miku returned her gaze to her brother's. He was no longer watching her, but she could see the tension in his shoulders, and he didn't seem to be happy. She still remembered – whenever he was unhappy about something, his back stiffened, his arms would straighten, his fingers would clench. She snuck a peek at his hands, clamped around the steering wheel. His knuckles were pale; his skin was still pale as she remembered, but his knuckles had literally bled of any colour.

She wondered why he was upset. After their meeting in the alley, after they had realised who the other was…she had wanted to stay there and continue staring at him, to continue to tell herself that she wasn't living some kind of torturous dream. But, Mikuo had quickly whipped his gaze away, beckoning to Kaito – fingers wrapping around her wrist, he had dragged her and Kaito both to a car, parked on the side of the road. And now, they were driving off…

Though his grip was tight, he had been gentle. He hadn't pushed her, hadn't handled her with violence, despite probably knowing that she was the one who had murdered Kaito's father. His best friend's father. Did Mikuo remember what their relationship had been like? Did he recall, despite his youth at the time, the way she had tried to prevent him from coming to any harm, the way she tried to protect him, the promise she made to never let him suffer in any way…? If he recalled, then maybe…would be acknowledge her for who she was, though? She was an assassin now, after all. That was something she doubted he would be proud of.

The rest of the car trip was spent in silence, with Miku just staring at the back of her brother's head, wondering what he was thinking, wondering what the Academy was going to do about her…and, most of all, wondering how Yuma was. He was her best friend, her closest and only confidant. She was worried for him – she had caused him to mess his job up, and Lord knew how much that assassin detested having his reputation threatened in any way. The Academy probably wouldn't eliminate him – he was too much of an asset for them – but she knew that he would be punished for his failure, one way or another. Actually…

She couldn't help wondering if Yuma would be the one sentenced to kill her.

* * *

She thought the ride lasted for several hours – she was good at keeping track of the hours, all assassins had to be good at timing – and she was certain that they had driven quite a fair distance away from the scene of the failed assassination. Mikuo finally stopped the car, and she glanced out of the window – here, wherever they were, it wasn't raining, but storm clouds still hovered above, giving the whole place a look of oppression and general depression.

There were raindrops on the windows. She watched as two of them rolled down, and felt like it was some kind of race. That was a game she and Mikuo used to play, as children – if they were bored, if they had the precious time to entertain themselves, they liked to go to cars with wet windows, and watch the water droplets roll down. _It's like a race, you see? We'll see which one reaches the edge first! You pick one, and I pick one – the winner gets to eat half the share of the other's food for a week! _A childhood memory, one of the few sweet ones she had. She let out a faint sigh at the recollection – at that, Mikuo's head snapped around.

His expression was almost worried, but as he followed her gaze, his eyes settling upon the window and the raindrops, something like wistfulness and pain shot through those emerald depths. She turned to stare at him, questioning; he just looked away from her, getting out of the car. Bewildered by his abrupt rejection, she opened the car door as well, stepping out into wherever they were. Behind her, Kaito watched her, evidently still suspicious – she paid him no heed. There was no point to her escaping; she had nowhere to go, and even if she did, she would never leave her brother. Not now. And probably everyone there knew it.

"Where are we?" she asked, glancing at her brother's back. His back was still stiff, and she knew he was probably still unhappy. His body language hadn't changed much, and he was still as easy to read as ever. Well, at least it was easy for her. "We're not…in town any more, are we?" she added, though the question was plainly unnecessary. There was the crunch of footsteps on gravel behind her, and the navy-haired Kaito stepped out, next to her. Mikuo hadn't responded at all to her questions, and that worried her quite a bit. She glanced across at Kaito – he, too, was staring at the giant mansion before them. It wasn't familiar to her.

"Shion Manor," Kaito said simply. Her eyes widened – but no. This couldn't be…she would remember if it were! "We moved after my father died," Kaito said quietly, his voice neutral. Nevertheless, she flinched at the explanation, at the quiet accusation that lay within his words, regardless of whether or not the accusation was intentional. "What was left of my family, anyway. My uncle took me in…Kikaito Shion, you must have heard of him before…"

The name was familiar, summoning up the image of a tall, almost regal man with bright blond hair and shimmering yellow eyes. Eyes that were a strange mix between sunshine and amber. "The estranged son of the Shion family?" she asked, just to be certain. Kaito nodded, and she bit her lip. Yes, she knew of the name Kikaito Shion – it was a name associated with the underworld, and she actually recalled having seen his name somewhere before…as a sponsor, perhaps, for the Academy? Or was he one of the reclusive Directors? She couldn't quite recall how he was linked to the underworld, but she knew he was of importance there…

"He's not exactly estranged, though that's what the mass media appears to believe…it's true that he did have a disagreement with my grandfather, but he wasn't disowned, and he does have a share of the Shion fortune," Kaito continued saying, his voice still soft and even. "It's just that…he happens to run a shadier branch of the Shion Company," Kaito seemed to exhale. "And perhaps he enjoys his job just a tad too much."

"A tad would be an understatement," Mikuo muttered – it was a softly spoken sentence and Kaito didn't appear to hear what Mikuo said, but Miku's senses had been honed to near superhuman levels, and she could hear what he had said as clearly as if he had yelled it into her ear. She frowned – she didn't like the idea of Mikuo, or Kaito for that matter, associating with the shady business that this…Kikaito must have. She already had a vague idea of what this 'shady' business might entail, and she didn't like it in the slightest.

"Well," she finally said, after a lengthy pause, "why have you brought me here?" Her gaze flicked across the courtyard of the ostentatious mansion, eyes taking in the ornate gardens, the neatly-trimmed hedges and lawns. She already didn't like the opulence this place exuded – no, not exuded, oozed – and she wished she could run as far away from here as possible. But she wasn't going to be parted from her little brother, and she knew that Mikuo would never run away from here. After all, he was likely well-acquainted with this place…

"This is my home, and Kaito's home," Mikuo suddenly whirled around, intense green gaze capturing hers, leaving her speechless with surprise – she couldn't help being startled that he was willing to speak to her now, after all those hours of resolute silence in the car. "We know about the Academy, we know how to avoid their detection…you'll be safe here," for a moment, fear seemed to flicker through those emerald eyes, fear for what she couldn't tell, but just as quickly the fear disappeared, and his eyes were neutral once more. "I'm not going to let anyone else take you away again," he added, his voice turning soft and low.

She remembered. She recalled the way he had tried to stop those from the Academy from taking her away, from separating them – recalled the way he had been brushed aside as though he was no more than a piece of scrap paper, floating aimlessly in the wind. She would always remember his haunted wails as she was hauled away, struggling and screaming – at least, struggling until she was knocked out. She winced, and knew that Mikuo was probably thinking of that as well; his eyes darkened, his gaze fixing resolutely on the trimmed grass.

Kaito coughed lightly, interrupting the brief – if miserable – family reunion she and Mikuo were having. "I called my uncle, warning him about you beforehand," he said flatly – her mind raced back to the hushed conversation he had in the car on the phone, the conversation she could hear practically every word of. It hadn't been anything much, nothing worth her panicking over anyway, and she had decided to pretend that she didn't overhear what he was saying. "He demands to see you. Apparently, he has met you before," he noticed the quizzical look on her face. "And undoubtedly, you fail to remember," he added, slightly amused.

She didn't know whether or not to be insulted – she might have saved him, she might not be as heartless and uncompassionate as every other assassin out there, but she was still a killer of repute, and he would do well to recall that. She disliked the kill, and preferred the hunt, but that didn't change the fact that she could murder him in over fifty ways, of which twenty didn't require anything more than her bare hands. She still demanded the respect which was owed to a killer of her calibre, and this boy, young as he may be, as indebted to as she may be, was toeing the line. Even she did not appreciate being mocked. Unless it was Yuma…

Then again, Yuma was her best friend. Who was Kaito to her? The son of her first ever victim. That hardly put them on friendly terms, but she let it slide. There were other things to spend energy on, and she would rather focus on the fact that she was meeting someone of great influence in her world – someone who might well decide whether she lived or died. She swallowed, her fingers clenching in nervous anticipation – who was this Kikaito figure, when had she seen him before, what position did he hold in the underworld, and why did he want to see her? Questions which she wanted answered, and she wanted the answers now.

"Then I shall meet your uncle," she responded, her chin tilting upwards slightly, giving the impression of confidence – when, to tell the truth, she had never been more nervous. "Would you have me lead the way?" she asked sarcastically, when both the boys standing before her failed to move. Instantly, both of them blinked, springing into action, and she trailed after them, her thoughts focused on matters other than the both of them. For once, she wasn't thinking about Mikuo – not very much, to be more accurate – nor was she really paying any heed to the impending meeting she had just been thrust into. Instead, her mind was drifting…

Yuma. She kept thinking of Yuma, kept thinking of the possibility that he was out to kill her, that her murder was the punishment the Board had laid out for him – she wouldn't put forcing someone to kill their best friend beyond the unscrupulous Directors – and she couldn't help the shiver that ran down her spine. Yuma would never stop until he eliminated her, she knew. He kept work and private life separate – she was a friend, but she was also an assassin, and in his eyes, he wouldn't be killing a friend; he would be exterminating a traitor to their cause.

His silky hair, those green eyes that always filled with laughter and warmth whenever he regarded her – those green eyes that could turn from warm and humorous to cold and murderous in mere seconds – she had only been on the receiving end of his coldness before once. That one time, on Gumo's roof, when she had been withholding necessary information from him – she shuddered, perhaps she should have never told him that information, then he would never have been able to attempt killing Kaito – and she had almost died. If he was serious about murdering her this time, then…would he actually be able to get rid of her, once and for all? Would he really be able to put their relationship aside, and just…exterminate her?

_If you were ordered to kill me, Yuma, would you do such a thing? _Again, she shivered. A question she had asked in her head, over and over again, so many times that she couldn't even remember how many times she had asked it before…well, it seemed like she would finally get to know the answer. And the answer would determine whether she lived or died.

* * *

_**Solitaryloner: **__I'm sorry for the long wait! I was really busy with school and everything! Life is so hectic and busy right now, you guys could not believe…anyway, I'll probably work on something else soon, but for now, enjoy this update! I quite like it, actually. This chapter._

_Review please! Reviews actually serve as reminders for me to update, since I check my emails every day, and I get really excited when I see a whole bunch of reviews and stuff. Well, till next time! I'll try and get something else done over this week, okay? Sorry for the prolonged absence guys, next time I'll really try to work on time management and all that._


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